Fidelis Ad Mortem
by Rogue Amazon Boo
Summary: An interrogation gone wrong causes trouble for Mac’s team and brings two of its members closer together. DL all the way.
1. The Art of War

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, I'm just borrowing, will have them back by supper time.

**Fidelis Ad Mortem **

**By**

**Rogue Amazon Boo**

Lindsay Monroe sat across from Alex Davis in interrogation room four and willed her expressive face into a hard mask. The man made her skin crawl and by the smirk on his face he knew it, the bastard. Her sometime partner Danny Messer was standing a few feet off to her left with his arms crossed over his chest. He looked casual but his ice blue eyes were as hard as polished diamonds.

Alex Davis; arrested for suspicion of sexual assault and murder. Lindsay suppressed her shudder. In her mind's eye she could still see the crime scene she and Danny had processed four days ago.

A jogger had found them in Central park lying under a tree. Two pre-teen girls, their bodies stripped and bleached, both with hands and feet bound, and both asphyxiated, Sid had determined, while they were being raped.

The bodies had been identified as Julie Martinez and Rachel Adams. Their faces, frozen in silent screams, haunted her waking hours and followed her into her dreams and she had a feeling that time would not erode this particular memory.

Danny glanced at her just then and that was the signal. She stood up her eyes never leaving Davis's and placed a folder in front of him. She opened it and extracted two of the most gruesome crime scene photos they had and placed them in front of the suspect.

"Rachel Adams, twelve." she said, placing the picture of a bound African American pre-teen in front of their suspect. Davis smirked slightly but didn't re-act any other way.

Lindsay pushed the second photo forward.

"Julie Martinez, thirteen." she paused, "You killed them Alex."

This time he leaned forward and pulled the photos closer so he could get a better look and then pushed them back and looked up at Lindsay.

"You're hot, did you know that? A little old for my tastes but still…very pretty," he drawled and gave her the once over. "I bet you're an animal in bed with that tight ass and those perky tits. A real animal."

Danny twitched slightly and Lindsay caught it out of the corner of her eye. She shot him a warning look. She could tell by the tension in his forearms that he had not appreciated Alex's comments to her but she also knew that Davis had just been trying to get a reaction out of him. She looked back at the slimy excuse for a human being lounging in front of her and frowned at the knowing smirk that he was shooting her and Danny.

Davis turned his attention on the Danny.

"Well, well, well Detective. You've been hittin' that at night haven't you?"

Lindsay watched her partner's facial muscles twitch and was proud that he didn't give Davis the satisfaction of a response.

Her feeling was short lived.

"You must not be doin' a very good job Romeo, she looks unsatisfied. I'll tell you what. When I get out of here I'll look her up and satisfy her."

Danny moved then and slammed his hands down on the table, causing it to jump.

"You listen here you sonovabitch…" he started but Lindsay cut him off and shot him another sharp glance.

_That isn't the way to do this; _she seemed to shout at him telepathically. He backed off.

Lindsay turned cold eyes on their Perp, sat down, and methodically started to lay out the facts.

"You aren't going any where Davis. We've got you cold. After we are done with you the only place you are going to be spending any quality time is in Attica. I'd say probably for the next thirty or fifty years. You're going to be real popular there. I know how much Cons love baby killers, and believe me when I say I'm going to personally make sure that the worst offenders in there find out exactly what you have done.

Davis's smirk turned to a snarl as he glared at Lindsay with pure hatred in his eyes. Seeing the look Danny back off a little more; knowing that his partner was going to break this asshole and feeling damn proud of her.

"She's right you know. You were real sloppy lover boy. Real sloppy and real stupid," he goaded and had the satisfaction of seeing Davis's face go molten red.

"You ain't got nothin' on me," Alex said, but he didn't sound sure. Lindsay watched his eyes and knew that he was going through the crime, trying to see where he might have slipped up. She almost smiled. It was going to be her pleasure to inform him just how screwed he really was.

"You thought you had it all worked out didn't you Alex? Get some work at that fancy prep school, pick the girls, get them to your house. You even had a special room set up just for them and after you were done with them you cleaned up everything, bleached the whole place. You even remembered to use a condom so that you wouldn't leave any semen in the girls and that is where this seemingly perfect plan goes to hell. You placed the used condoms and the cleaning supplies inside the plastic bag you used to kill those girls and threw them into the dumpster three blocks from your house, foolishly thinking that we would never find that bag."

Lindsay paused and this time she had a small victorious smile on her face as she pulled out the lab results.

"But DNA don't lie, does it?" Danny finished for her. Alex looked from the paper to Lindsay, and then back at the paper. He was shaking with rage.

"Not to mention that plastic in an excellent conductor for imprints. We have perfect molds of each of the victims' faces that had imprinted into the plastic when you suffocated them and do you want to know the best part Davis?"

Lindsay bared her teeth in a predatory imitation of a smile and leaned forward.

"You didn't wear gloves when you threw away the bag. You left us fingerprints."

Suddenly before anyone could react Davis launched himself over the table and wrapped his fingers tightly around Lindsay's throat.

"You bitch! I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!"

Lindsay's chair toppled over from the combined weight of her and the suspect and she felt her head smack the concrete floor. Stars swam behind her eyes and she couldn't breath.

In a desperate state of panic she clawed at the vice like hands that were cutting off her air supply, tearing skin with her fingernails. She vaguely heard shouting in the back ground as the fluorescent lights swam in and out of her vision.

Lindsay felt herself slipping into oblivion as the abyss called her. Her whole body felt weak and lethargic and she just wanted to sink into it, away from the pain.

Suddenly the pressure on her throat eased and she saw two bright specs of blue swimming in her vision. A voice seemed to be calling her but she couldn't answer back, her throat hurt too much. Lindsay tried to push through the pain and towards the voice. She fought to keep her eyes open but it was just too much, it hurt too much. Her last thought before passing out was that blue was her favorite color.


	2. Aftermath

The interrogation had been going well. Danny stood back and watched as his partner laid out the evidence before the scumbag they had just hauled in. Alex Davis was a real piece of shit with the consistency of Teflon. He had been picked up numerous times, more than a couple for rape, but they could never get anything to stick. This time though, thanks to Lindsay and some creative dumpster diving, they had the bastard cold, which was why he was letting her take the lead in this interrogation.

He gazed at her and had to force down the smile as she methodically laid out the crime scene photos. He didn't however, try to stop the swell of pride or the feeling of absolute respect he had for her.

She was dangerous, this country girl from Bozeman, Montana. She had caught his attention the day she walked up to Mac and introduced herself. She had been nervous and excited and beautiful, so he did what any man in his position would have done, he set her up. The reason was equal parts his nature and the grantee that she wouldn't be forgetting him any time soon.

Danny had hoped that this thing he seemed to have for her would burn itself out, that her novelty would wear off after a few months, but he had been wrong. If anything, as the months passed she became even more fascinating and he wondered all the time now what was going on beneath her surface.

Shaking those thoughts off he realized that Davis was speaking and he focused in on the words. The complete rage that filled him at the filth spewing from the suspect's mouth had him stalking over to the table, ready to commit a calculated act of violence, but his partner cut him off.

He backed down and let her take the lead again and this time he didn't try to hide his smirk as she told this asshole exactly how they were going to put him away for the rest of his natural life. He even added a couple of his own comments to add to the suspect's displeasure.

He hadn't expected the guy to jump the table and wasted precious seconds in stunned fascination. The shock was fleeting and he was on the bastard faster than he could blink.

"You sonovabitch, get off her!" Davis was screaming that he was going to kill Lindsay and Danny couldn't get a good grip on him. Frustrated, the Detective brought his knee up into Davis's ribs, breaking them; the suspect howled in pain and but his grip on Lindsay never wavered.

Davis's head snapped back in reaction to the blow and caught Danny in the face, splitting his lip. He ignored the blood and lunged for the suspect again and punched him in the jaw. This time he let Lindsay go.

Danny hauled the guy back and slammed him up against a nearby wall.

"You ever touch her again and I swear to God that I will feed you your balls." Danny had pulled back to throw another punch at the guy but two uniforms entered and pulled him back. Davis slide down the wall, clutching his ribs and whimpering in pain.

The young CSI threw off the uniforms but didn't lunge at Davis again like he wanted to, instead he wiped the blood he had just become aware of off his lip and motioned the other cops towards the suspect.

"Get'im outta here."

The two uniforms did as they were told and none to gently removed Davis from the room. Danny didn't give the scumbag another thought because his entire focus was now on Lindsay.

He knelt down next to her and gently brushed her hair back from her face.

"You need to stay with me, Montana," he whispered but she couldn't do it. She lost consciousness just as Mac and Stella entered the room. Stella looked angry and concerned and Mac looked down right scary.

He took one look at Lindsay and said in a low barely controlled voice.

"Someone better tell me just what the hell happened in here."

Danny wiped a weary hand over his face and sighed. This was not going to be good.

* * *

The paramedics had been called at Stella's insistence and they were now in the break room looking Lindsay over. She had regained consciousness before EMS had arrived and Danny had stayed with her, her head cradled in his lap until the med techs had taken her away from him. He had wanted to follow but one look at Mac and he knew that wasn't going to be an option.

Stella had gone with her, helping her at Lindsay's insistence, to the break room so the EMT's could look her over.

She hadn't been able to talk above a whisper and if Davis had been with in Danny's grasp at that moment he would have killed him.

Mac had left him a few minutes ago cooling his heals in his boss' office, and when he got back the look on his face was grave.

"Sit down, Danny" It hadn't been a request and the young CSI felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

Mac sat down at his own desk and regarded his employee with an expression that Danny couldn't place. He started to fidget.

"Davis has called a lawyer. He is going to claim that the officer in charge of his investigation used excessive force and that he had said things under duress. He is even going to throw around evidence tampering and claim that the officer in charge had a grudge against him."

Danny bolted upright from his chair. "That is a damn lie! That sonovabitch! He-he…" Danny couldn't finish.

"Sit down, Danny," Mac said. The young CSI tried to calm himself and sank back down into his chair. His boss leaned forward and eyed him.

"I'm going to have to pull you from this case." An instant protest rose to Danny's lips but Mac held up a hand to forestall him.

"Danny, you broke the guy's ribs. If we have any chance of getting him we have to play it careful and that means you are off this case and unofficially taking a few days off."

"You mean I'm suspended," he groused and Mac shook his head.

"No, you are going to take a few days off, paid vacation." Danny must have looked as confused as he felt because Mac cracked a small smile.

"He attacked your partner. I'm frankly amazed he came out of there with only a couple of broken ribs and a bruised jaw but you know how this works. He can find a lawyer that will come in and shoot holes in your case. We need to do everything we can from this point on to preserve the evidence."

"So you ain't mad at me?" Mac shot the young CSI a rueful look.

"Actually I'm furious, but not so much with you after I saw Lindsay's neck. He attacked one of my CSIs. He won't be getting away with that and I'm going to make sure he doesn't. Now go on." He said, dismissing him.

Danny still wasn't sure he understood exactly what happened and his confusion followed him to the door. He was about to leave when Mac's voice caused him to pause.

"Oh and Danny? Call me later and let me know how she is doing."

Danny smirked and walked out. His boss knew him too well for his own good.


	3. Temptation

Danny found her in the break room nursing a cup of hot tea while Stella guarded her like a mama bear protecting its cub. The Greek woman had passed the point of livid and was now bordering on homicidal. He knew that if Davis was in front of her right now he probably wouldn't be enjoying the sensation of walking anytime soon.

The EMTs where just finishing up and packing their kits. The older of the two men was trying to convince Lindsay that she needed to go to the hospital but she just shook her head.

"No," she croaked out and rubbed her abused throat. "No, I just want to go home."

"You might have a concussion Miss. You should really go to the hospital and if you won't do that you should at least have someone with you tonight in case complications arise."

Danny had been observing her from the doorway and noticed that she had that look, the one that said that no matter what anyone told her she was going to be doing as she pleased. He both loved and hated that look.

"I'll be fine. I'm not going to the hospital over this."

She was not going to let a sub-human troglodyte like Davis intimidate her. She was tougher than that and had dealt with criminals far scarier than Davis could ever hope to be.

The paramedic seemed like he was going to argue with her further but Danny stepped in.

"Don't worry, I'm gonna drive her home and stay with her tonight. She'll be fine."

He avoided the questioning look in Stella's eyes and the annoyed glare that Lindsay was now shooting at him, deciding that focusing his attention on the EMT was less hazardous to his health. The guy eyed him up and down and focused his attention on his split lip.

"You want us to look at that?" Danny had forgotten about his lip, he touched it, and flinched.

"Naw, It's fine. Nothin' a cold steak won't fix." The EMT threw up his hands and mumbled something about stubborn cops before motioning to his partner that it was time to leave. They filed out without a backwards glance and Danny turned his attention to Lindsay.

"Hey Stel, give us a minute?" He asked. The older woman eyed him suspiciously and then glanced between him and Lindsay before nodding.

"Before you both leave you need to come see me in the lab. We are going to have to take some swabs and pictures for evidence."

Both the CSIs shot her grave looks and nodded in agreement. Stella smiled and whispered to Danny in passing "Good luck." He smirked.

The young woman before him did not look happy about his presumption that he would be staying the night. That was just too damn bad.

"I'm a big girl, Danny. I don't need you to baby sit me," she croaked out. He didn't say much because his gaze was riveted to her throat and the bruising that was becoming visible. Death was too good for Davis.

He walked over to where she was sitting on the counter and gently tipped her head back and ran his fingers lightly over the bruises. She closed her eyes and sighed. She knew he was only concerned about her but she couldn't stop the shiver that went down her spine from the touch of his long fingers on her sensitive skin.

The moment passed much too quickly for Lindsay and when he released her she opened her eyes.

"I'm takin' you home and crashin' on your couch, Monroe. This isn't negotiable."

"Danny…" she started to protest. He shook his head and crossed his arms.

"I'll just sleep outside in the truck if you don't let me in." She frowned at him.

"You're very stubborn, Detective Messer."

Danny smirked at her but it faded quickly as he brushed her hair back behind her ear.

"I should have killed him."

Lindsay's expressive brown eyes got huge. He couldn't mean that? She studied his face and was surprised to see the depth of emotion there. She blushed and cleared her throat. She had no idea how to re-act to that statement, so she said nothing.

The strange moment passed and he stepped away from her, distancing himself. She wasn't going to admit that she felt the loss of his body heat like a physical blow.

"Let's get your stuff and get you home," he said; his voice gruff.

She watched him walk out and realized subconsciously that something had just shifted in their relationship. She just wasn't sure what it was or what it was going to mean.

* * *

Danny had driven Lindsay home on other occasions and had even spent an evening or two watching movies at her place, but he had never stayed the night. He was trying to tell himself that it wasn't a big deal. He was just here looking out for his partner and friend, but every time he glanced at her neck he had a hard time swallowing past the lump in his throat.

He had never felt so unbalanced around a woman before. Shaking off that unproductive line of thought Danny shouldered his duffle bag and followed Lindsay up the stairs to her place. She hadn't said much on the drive over and he knew it was because it hurt too much for her to speak.

She unlocked her front door and went inside. He followed her and put his duffle bag down on the floor next to the couch.

She walked into the kitchen, put her bag down on the table, and then headed across the apartment to her bedroom.

"I'm going to shower and change and then tomorrow we can burn these clothes."

She was only slightly joking and Danny seemed to know it because he didn't crack a smile. She shuddered slightly. She could still smell Davis on her and she wanted to shower and get into her pajamas more than anything right now.

"Hey Linds," Danny said, stopping her. She turned to him and paused in her doorway while he nervously rubbed the back of his head.

"I just wanted to…ya know what? Never mind. Go get your shower and I'll just make up the couch." Lindsay frowned at him, puzzled and then shrugged.

"The sheets are in the linen closet in the hallway." She disappeared into her bedroom and Danny stood there for a minute until he heard the shower start.

Immediately images of wet and naked Lindsay filled his mind and he ruthlessly crushed them. This was going to kill him.

Danny walked over to the linen closet, got the sheets, and proceeded to make up the couch, the whole time reminding himself that he was here as her friend. She had been injured and she should have gone to the hospital and since she didn't he was going to stay here and help her out.

That was the only reason he was here.

He knew he was lying to himself but he also knew that she was hurt and aching and he was not going to go there.

After making up his bed he changed into a clean wife beater and a pair of dark blue pajama bottoms and then wandered over to her DVD's. His eyes fell on an unlikely looking title and he smirked. He pulled the box set off the shelf and carried it over to the DVD player, fired it up and placed the first disk of volume one into the tray.

Lindsay came out a few moments later drying her hair with a towel. She stopped dead when she realized what Danny was watching and a wide smile split her face, flashing her dimples.

Danny seemed to sense her and he turned around to get a look at her. He immediately wished he hadn't. She was wearing a pair of light blue boy shorts and a matching light blue tank top with spaghetti straps. It was official; she was trying to kill him.

He shifted his focus but it was hard and made an offhanded gesture towards the television.

"_Aqua Teen Hunger Force_ Miz Monroe? What would the lab think?" She smirked at him and crossed the room so she could plop down on the sofa next to him.

"What, it's funny! Besides you aren't going to tell, cause I distinctly remember a copy of _When Harry Met Sally_ nestled in with your DVD collection. Chick flicks, Messer?"

Danny got defensive.

"Now that was a good movie and it ain't a chick flick, it's a classic." Her smile grew wide.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself." He sighed and turned his attention back to the TV.

"So how ya feelin"

Her voice was still hoarse as she answered.

"I'm all right, a little dizzy, a lot sore, but I'll live."

He nodded and pushed down the guilt he was feeling. She should never have been injured. He should have known that Davis was unstable and he should have been the one sitting across from him. She seemed to read his mind and her hand reached out and captured his.

"Danny, this was not your fault. There was no way you could have known that Davis would snap like that."

He nodded but she could tell he wasn't listening. He changed the subject, pulled his hand out of her grasp, and she fought not to sigh.

"You tired?" She asked. He shook his head in the negative.

"Neither am I." She turned her attention to _Aqua Teen_ and they watched Frylock, Master Shake, Meatwad and Carl as they ran amuck in New Jersey. It wasn't long though before her head started to droop and she started fighting her heavy eyelids.

She lost her battle with sleep a little while later and her head came to rest on his shoulder. Danny could have moved her, probably should have, but the intoxicating scent of her silky hair had him distracted. He moved his arm up around her waist and she snuggled closer to him in her sleep.

Danny closed his eyes tightly begging any god who happened to be listening for control. When none was forthcoming he snapped his eyes back open and decided it was time to move temptation somewhere less accessible.

He gently disentangled himself and stood, laying her down on the sofa as he did. He then put one arm under he knees and the other under her shoulders so he could lift her.

He grunted when he lifted her into his arms but it was hardly a strain, she probably weighed a buck fifteen or a buck twenty tops. Danny ignored the soft give of her body against his own and carried her past the sofa and into her bedroom where he deposited her on her bed. Her shirt rode up her rib cage and stopped just under her breasts and he prayed for strength.

This had not been one of his better ideas. He already battled enough carnal thoughts when it came to Lindsay Monroe and now he was adding a whole slew of images to fuel those thoughts. He frowned and quickly pulled her covers over her and watched as she snuggled against her pillows the way she had snuggled against his chest.

He had to get out of this bedroom, right now.

Danny beat a hasty retreat to the sofa, shut off the TV and DVD player and tried to get comfortable. He could still smell the clean seductive scent of her shampoo in the cushions and he groaned.

It was a good thing he didn't have to go anywhere but home tomorrow because there was no way in hell he was getting any sleep tonight.


	4. Complications

Danny was gone when Lindsay woke up the next morning, but he had left her a note on her pillow. She had been lying on her stomach, with the sheets tangled around the lower half of her body. Bleary eyed and fighting a killer headache she reached across her bed to the pillow holding the folded paper and pushed herself up into a sitting position. She checked her alarm clock on the side of her bed and groaned. It was eight o'clock in the morning and usually she would have to be at work in the next thirty minutes, but Danny had talked to Mac last night on their way over to her place and he had told him, to tell her to take the day off.

She hadn't planned on listening to him.

Lindsay wiped her hand over her eyes trying to clear them and unfolded the piece of paper. The note was brief.

_Montana,_

_Had something to take care of, don't even think about going into work. _

_P.S. I love your P.J.'s_

_Danny_

Lindsay blushed and looked down at her tank top. The strap had fallen over her shoulder and she was sure, as much as she moved during the night, that her shirt had ridden up. She probably should have worn something that covered more of her but it was hot, and besides it served him right for pretty much forcing her to let him baby sit her.

So why was she disappointed that he hadn't stuck around until she woke up? Lindsay shook off that question, knowing that it was best to leave it unanswered.

He was a friend and that was all she was going to allow him to be. The thought depressed her and followed her into the bathroom where she stripped and stepped into the shower.

The warm water felt good against her abused neck and she spent longer under the spray than she normally would have. Her thoughts drifted and landed, like they usually did, on Danny Messer.

From the day she had met him he had kept her off balance. The little prank with Mac had not endeared him to her at the time nor had his instance on calling her Montana, but now she really couldn't imagine him calling her anything else.

The facts of the matter were that he had proven himself over and over, case after case and she could honestly say after their rocky start that she really liked and respected him.

Her problem now was that she liked and respected him a little too much.

She liked the fact that he seemed to really care about people, liked that when he got his teeth into a suspect he clamped down like a bull dog, liked that he was meticulous and contentious with the evidence, but mostly she liked the fact that no matter how bad her day was going he would crack a lame joke or flirt with her until she smiled.

She could fall in love with a guy like that.

She just wasn't going to allow it to happen.

With a sigh Lindsay turned off the shower, stepped out, and wrapped a towel around her naked body. She grabbed another towel and started drying her hair with it before heading into her bedroom. She twisted to pick her shoes up off of the floor and caught site of her neck in the vanity mirror above her dresser.

Lindsay crossed the room and stood in front of the mirror so she could inspect the damage and winced. The bruises stood out dark purple against her skin, making her look like she had just gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson and lost.

Her original plan of covering the bruises with make-up was not going to do the trick. She pulled open the top drawer of her bureau and pulled out a light purple summer scarf that her sister had given her for her birthday.

A light purple button down v-neck top and a pair of tan dress slacks completed the ensemble. She quickly dressed, dried her hair, and put on her make-up, leaving the scarf for last.

Lindsay usually caught the subway to work but today she thought she might indulge in a cab ride; at least that had been the plan. She stepped out of the front door of her apartment building and there waiting for her on the curb, leaning against the door of a department issue SUV, was Danny Messer.

He had gone home to shower and change and was now smirking at her like he had the punch line to a really funny joke.

"You are getting' to be real predictable, Miz Monroe," he drawled. She crossed her arms and glared at him.

"What is that suppose to mean?" His smile grew wider as he pushed away from the door and came to stand right in front of her, closer than he really needed to.

"It means I figured you'd need a ride to work. Your chariot." He gestured towards the vehicle and Lindsay's lips twitched into a smile. Before she could stop herself she started to laugh.

"Am I really that predictable?" She asked. He shook his head and smiled again.

"Maybe, or maybe I've just…"

Danny stopped mid-sentence and cleared his throat. He had been about to tell her that he had gotten to know her so well that reading her mind was like breathing, but he didn't like what that simple statement admitted.

"How about that ride? Either way I gotta get this truck back." She shot him a puzzled look.

"Why? I thought you were on call all week?" He cleared his throat again and wouldn't look at her. Instead he opened the passenger door and motioned her in.

"Danny?" She questioned as she stepped up into the SUV. He shut her door and didn't say anything.

Danny had just hopped into the driver side of the car and was about to turn the key when her touch on his forearm distracted him.

"Danny, why do you have to get the truck back?"

He didn't want to tell her because he knew she would be upset, and after yesterday upsetting her was the last thing he wanted to do. He sighed and looked up. She was looking at him with such a strange combination of concern and suspicion that he almost laughed.

"I got taken off the case and put on leave," he admitted. She blinked in surprise but it quickly turned to anger.

"Mac suspended you! He can't do that Danny!"

She looked like she was about to go to war, with her fist clenched and anger flashing in her whiskey eyes. Her instant defense of him surprised and warmed him.

"Naw, ya got it wrong, Montana. He didn't suspend me, at least not officially. I'm taking some paid vacation time."

"That's still not fair," she groused. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't want to tell her the rest of it, but he figured it would be better for her to hear it now from him than at the lab or in the news.

"That ain't the worst of it, Linds. The reason I ducked outta your place early was because I gotta call from a friend of mine down at the courthouse. Davis called in an attorney and not just any attorney. He got Carl Riker, Congressman Joseph Riker's son. You know the one, from Riker, Crane, and Dunbar. It seems ol' Carl woke up one of his father's old golfing buddies, Judge Abbot and is gettin' this whole case fast tracked. He's gonna use it to go after us, CSI and you and me in particular. I've already been on the phone with Mac and we gotta meetin' when we get there."

Lindsay was staring at him completely dumbfounded. She couldn't believe that Davis was going to take it this far and Riker, just what the hell did someone like Riker get out of this. She must have voiced her thoughts aloud because Danny's face became grim and he answered.

"Riker's got a beef with Mac. There was this high profile case a couple years back. Some judge or other offed his wife and Riker was the defense attorney. Mac got on the stand and did what Mac does best; he brought in die hard evidence. Riker lost and the judge went to prison, or at least he would have if he hadn't hung himself in his holdin' cell. Riker's had a grudge against Mac ever since. For him this ain't about gettin' Davis off, this is about puttin' CSI on trial."

Lindsay crossed her arms across her chest and stared at the passing cars. She felt cold all of a sudden and shivered. Danny noticed, shrugged his blazer off when the hit a stop light and handed it to her. She smiled and took it gratefully, draping it over her shoulders.

It smelled like him, like clean man with a hint of cedar. She knew it had to be his soap because none of them wore any sort of perfume or cologne to work. It messed with their sense of smell and they needed all of their senses to be in top working order at crime scenes.

"Danny, what are we going to do about Riker?" She asked. He frowned but kept his eyes on the road.

"That is what we are gonna find out."


	5. War Council

Mac was in rare form when the two CSIs arrived. He didn't say anything to them, just motioned for them to join him and the rest of the team in his office. Lindsay looked around at the gathered players for this little drama and could tell that most of them had been dragged out of bed against their will. Sheldon in particular looked exhausted but that was because he had worked a 4 to 12 that had in all likelihood gone into overtime.

The minute she entered the room all eyes seemed to be on her and her neck. She was glad for the scarf hiding her bruises. She didn't want them worrying on her account and all this attention was making her slightly uncomfortable.

Danny walked in right behind her and stood close to her. She was more grateful than he could ever know for his supportive presence at her back.

Her gaze scanned the room and came to rest on each of her colleagues' faces. Stella had a thunderous look in her eyes but when she caught Lindsay's they softened for an instant.

Hawkes still looked tired but drummed up a small smile for her and Flack was unfortunately absent. He was on leave until he fully recovered from the blast that had put him in the hospital and she found that she missed his easy banter and smile. She considered him a good friend and she had a feeling she could use all the friends she had right about now.

Lindsay turned her attention to Mac and found the look on his face unreadable and a little scary. She took a deep breath and almost jumped when Danny placed a calming hand on the small of her back.

The way they were positioned in the room kept the gesture hidden but she was grateful none the less.

"Thank you all for coming in so early. I know that a couple of you have pulled a great deal of overtime lately and I'm afraid that I am going to have to add more."

He met each of their eyes in turn and continued.

"We've got a problem. Carl Riker has taken over as counsel for Alex Davis and according to the A. D.A. they have already filed to get the evidence Lindsay found thrown out. He is trying to get this case dismissed before it ever sees a jury and he has decided that the best way to do that is to attack the creditability of this lab."

Stella muttered a low, anger curse, Sheldon sighed, and it was probably a good thing that Lindsay couldn't see Danny's face, because he looked capable of murder.

"It gets worse," Mac said and to Lindsay's surprise he focused his steely gaze on her.

"He is going to claim that Lindsay acted in an unprofessional and blatantly sexual manner towards his client during the interrogation, causing him to temporary loose control of his faculties. He is trying to make it look like the attack was your fault. He's going to bring up that incident, Lindsay," he warned.

Lindsay paled. He couldn't, he wouldn't, and how the hell did he even find out?

Danny kept his hand on her back but stepped forward a little. Rage colored his words.

"What the hell Mac, you saw the tape. Lindsay did everything by the book. This is complete bullshit."

"I agree but there are extenuating circumstances." Mac's eyes bored into her and she flinched. "I'm sorry but you have to tell them. They are going to need to know in case Riker decides to leak this to the press."

"Mac, I can't…" she started to say but she couldn't get the words out. His face morphed into a sympathetic expression.

"I know this is hard but you can trust them with this. You trusted me," he pointed out.

She tightly wrapped her arms around herself and sighed; he really did look sorry. She had hoped that the only person in her department who would ever know about this particular incident in her past would be Mac, but now she was being forced to tell everyone she worked with. She couldn't believe she had to dredge all this back up and her stance shifted towards defensive.

Lindsay took a deep breath and met the eyes of each of her colleagues, except for one. She couldn't look at Danny and get through this story. She was too afraid of how this revelation would change his perception of her.

"When I first started working as a CSI for Gallatin County a colleague of mine took exception to my enthusiasm. He resented the fact that my work was getting recognition from our mutual supervisor and decided that I must be doing something other than being a through investigator and accused myself and my supervisor of sexual misconduct."

There were gasps and mummers at this revelation and Lindsay briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them she had to pick a point on the wall behind Mac to focus on, too afraid of what she might see if she looked at her co-workers.

"The fall out was epic. People I worked with and trusted didn't know what to believe and it didn't help that I happened to be friends with my boss. Suddenly innocent gestures and smiles took on new meanings as the gossip spread. The worst part was that he was married and his wife…she confronted me, believing that I was having an affair with her husband. None of it was true but the rumors had already done so much damage. If it wasn't for the colleague who accused me getting caught tampering with evidence then the whole thing might have ruined both of our careers."

The room went deathly quiet and she was afraid to see the suspicion and speculation that she was sure would be her colleagues' faces. She was angry, angry at Davis for attacking her, at Riker for trying to Houdini his client out of prison, and at Mac for making her tell this story that she had buried deep with in her past and her subconscious.

Stella was the first one who broke the silence.

"You told Mac all this before he hired you?"

Lindsay took a deep fortifying breath, looked right at Stella, and nodded. To her great relief she didn't see any of the resentment she had expected in the older woman's eyes. Instead she found compassion and righteous anger.

"Then that is good enough for me."

She gifted Stella with a grateful smile and shifted her gaze to Hawkes, who was also gazing at her with sympathy. Finally, she looked at Mac, who thankfully had already known the story, and was relieved when he gave her an encouraging nod.

That only left one person and his possible reaction scared her more than the others combined. She turned her head so she could look over her shoulder at Danny and found a blank mask staring back at her. She couldn't read his expression and it made her uneasy but she took comfort in the fact that his hand was still firmly at her back. Still, she desperately wanted to know what he was thinking.

"I know that was hard for you Lindsay, I'm sorry," Mac said simply. She nodded but kept her own face blank of emotion. She was afraid that if she thought too much she would do something completely humiliating, like start crying.

"So Mac, what's the plan. We can't let Riker and Davis get away with this crap," Stella said and Mac smiled.

"We aren't, believe me. Stel, I want you and Hawkes to drop what you have been doing and focus on the Davis case. We may need new evidence to bring against him if Riker actually manage to pull the wool over some judge's eyes and gets the evidence we have thrown out. I want to keep this guy in jail. Danny you and Lindsay stay here for a minute. We need to talk."

Puzzled they both nodded and smiled at Stella and Hawkes as they left. Stella grasped Lindsay's hands in one of her own before going and whispered.

"You are not going to face this bastard alone."

Lindsay didn't know what to say but the grateful expression on her face was better than any words she could have come up with. The older woman smiled, squeezed her hand gently, and left.

When she and Danny were the only two left in the room, Mac motioned them forward to sit in the seats the Stella and Hawkes had just vacated.

He eyed them both for a moment and they shifted uncomfortably when he leaned forward.

"I spoke to the A.D.A earlier. She is concerned about the tactics that Riker is using to get Davis off the hook. She still needs you to testify but she wants to be the one to put you on the stand, preferably after a slew of other witnesses. This gives us some time."

He shifted his focus to Danny, his eyes boring into the younger man.

"Now, I can't suggest that you actively try to dodge any summons that the defense attorney might try to serve you with. That would be interfering with the rights of Mr. Riker's client."

Danny's eyes widened behind his glasses; he couldn't mean? Lindsay was looking back and forth at the two men with a lost expression, while a slow, mischievous grin was transforming Danny's face.

"You know Mac, I gotta go check on somethin'. Can we pick this up later?"

Mac's eyes twinkled as he nodded to his CSI. He then started to straighten some papers on his desk. He looked up a few moments later to find Lindsay watching him. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

"You still here?" She started in surprise and her puzzled frown grew deeper. Mac smiled.

"I suggest that you go and find out what Danny is up to. You might find it interesting."

Lindsay shot him one last perplexed look, thinking that in the last few minutes he must have lost his mind. She got up and left, but a strange sound accosted her when she reached the door way and caused her to pause.

It was Mac and he was whistling.


	6. Shell Game

Lindsay rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she was cold and wandered down the hall. She honestly didn't think this day could get any worse or any weirder. She had missed something in Mac's office just then, and it upset her because she wasn't use to being in the dark. Her job was about illumination but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what Danny had gotten out of that exchange that she hadn't. She decided to go look for him and bumped into Stella instead.

Her face must have betrayed her inner turmoil because Stella came up beside her and pulled her into a sidearm hug. Lindsay laid her head on the other woman's shoulder and sighed.

"It's not what you are thinking," Stella informed her. Lindsay almost smiled.

"You don't know what I'm thinking." Stella released her and turned to face her.

"Sure I do. I'm all knowing, all seeing." This time Lindsay did laugh and it did wonders for the self pitying mood she had been slowly drifting towards.

"And what oh great swami, do you see in your crystal ball?"

Stella put her hands to her temples and pretended to concentrate on the great beyond.

"I see a handsome young man who is determined to protect you and your reputation at any cost, especially after that little bomb shell."

Lindsay looked away. "Nice to know someone could tell what he was thinking."

Her co-worker cocked her head, regarding her. "Trust me; I've known Danny a long time. He doesn't work that hard at concealing his thoughts unless he is feeling something very deeply."

Lindsay scoffed and her lips twitched into a bitter half smile. "It could have been disgust and suspicion."

Stella shook her head and her smile took on a sardonic twist.

"True, but if Danny felt that way you would have seen it. He only works so hard at hiding his emotions when he starts caring too much."

After that little illuminating revelation she excused herself so she could go find Hawkes. Lindsay watched her go, feeling more confused than ever before and not liking the feeling one bit.

* * *

Danny slammed his palm against his locker and sank down on the nearby bench. He couldn't believe this was happening. He and Lindsay do solid investigative work and get a child killer off the streets and some high powered attorney decides to cloud the issue because of an old grudge. Riker should rot in hell along with Davis.

Frustrated he spun his combination lock and popped open his locker. He had emergency duffel that he kept packed in case they got called in for lock down. A lot of police forces had procedures in place in case of a state wide emergency that required officers to report for duty when called and stay sequestered in designated places until the emergency was over. CSI usually didn't get called but every since 9/11 the criteria had expanded.

His duffel had a change of clothes, some pajama bottoms, a toothbrush and some travel size toiletry items.

He had a plan to keep him and Lindsay out of Riker's clutches until Mac came up with a miracle to save their careers. He just hoped that whatever magic Mac had up his sleeve was going to be good enough. With a determined expression he flipped open his cell phone and dialed.

That was how she found him, sitting on the bench with an open duffel and talking on his cell phone. It only took her a second to figure out who he was talking too.

"How you doin'? How's the side?" Flack must have made a joke about his injury because Danny laughed.

"Don't strain yourself, Romeo," he teased. Flack said something else that made Danny laugh and Lindsay smiled. She missed listening to them tease each other like kids and she was glad that Flack was feeling well enough to engage Danny in their usual banter.

Danny glanced up then and saw her. He waved her forward and gestured for her to have a seat in front of him. He was straddling the bench, facing the door so in order to keep facing him she had to straddle the other side.

"Listen Don, I got a favor to ask." Danny grinned again and she could only imagine what the other detective had said.

"Get your mind outta the gutter." He paused to listen. "Naw it ain't that either. Listen, does your pop still have that cabin upstate in Black Lake. He does. Anyone up there? Yeah I need to get outta town for a few days. Naw it ain't trouble like you're thinkin'. Call Mac and he'll fill you in, yeah. Great, have him drop the keys at my cousin Tony's. Yeah at the garage. Hey man, thanks I owe ya. Yep, okay, bye."

He hung up and met Lindsay's eyes.

"You got an emergency bag yet, Montana?" Puzzled by the question she nodded.

"It's in my locker." He nodded, distracted and put his phone in his own duffel.

"That was Flack. His pop got this cabin when he retired from the force up in Black Lake. It used to belong to Don's granddad. He is gonna have his friend Michael drop the keys at my cousin Tony's garage and I'm gonna borrow one of Tony's pick-up trucks so we can get outta Dodge for a little while."

Lindsay blinked at him in surprise and instantly started shaking her head.

"I don't think that is such a good idea Danny. What if Mac needs us?"

She latched on to Mac because she didn't want to admit the real reason this was a bad idea. She knew that if she went away with Danny Messer for a few days then all the self control in the world wouldn't amount to a hill of beans.

"Monroe, by gettin' outta town we're doin' what Mac needs us to do. What do you think he was tryin' to tell us in his office?"

He frowned and shook his head. "You don't know Riker. He's a leech and if we get served before Mac can work his magic then the whole case is gonna go straight to hell in the proverbial hand basket. So if you got a better idea let's hear it."

Lindsay bit her lip and looked away from him. The truth was she didn't have a better idea but she still wasn't sure about this. She watched his eyes watching her, assessing her in new ways and she felt slightly uncomfortable.

"You've got a point Messer, a good one. It's just…I don't like feeling like I'm running away." She had already done that once in her life and she swore that she would never do it again.

His lips twitched into a half smirk.

"We ain't running away. We're engaging in a strategic retreat." That got a smile out of her and he couldn't help but mark it as an internal victory. She was biting her lower lip again and Danny had to fight back a groan.

She just had to call attention to her mouth at time like this.

"All right, I'll go." He smiled. She hesitated only a moment before adding.

"Danny…about what I told everyone…John and I…we never…" Danny frowned at her.

"I believed you when you told it the first time, Linds. Why bring it up?"

She flushed but met his eyes head on, almost defiantly.

"Because I couldn't tell what you were thinking and I didn't like it."

Danny took off his glasses and ran a weary hand over his face. He put them back on and assessed her critically. She wanted honesty, he'd give her honesty.

"Like I said Monroe, I believed you but I also know you well enough to know that you was holdin' somethin' back."

She looked away and focused on a point behind his head and sighed. She seemed to be having an internal debate with herself and when she reached a conclusion she met his eyes again.

"I was attracted to John. He was…is a very attractive man; and I always felt a little guilty about it. If he hadn't been married things might have been different but he was and they weren't. He was a good friend and a good boss, but that was it."

Danny graced her with a small smile and she felt the weight that had settled on her chest lift.

"You ain't got nothin' to feel guilty about, Montana. You got caught up in somethin' that you couldn't do anything about and that guy who accused you outta jealously was a real bastard. Believe me, I know a little somethin' about situations that are outta your control."

She smiled then and it lit up her eyes like sunlight through stained glass.

She opened her mouth to thank him but his phone rang. He shot an annoyed glace at the offending technology and sighed.

"I'm sorry but I gotta take this," he apologized and answered. "Messer, yeah, hey Tony."

He got up so he could pace and turned away from her.

Lindsay watched him discreetly from underneath her lashes and felt a tug deep with-in her abdomen. Speaking of attractive men. It was ironic that she would come to New York and find herself once again, attracted to a co-worker, but this time there was nothing standing in the way of that attraction. Dangerous territory, dangerous thoughts, and now she was going away with him. He moved the phone higher and she watched his bicep flex under his dress shirt and she amended her earlier statement.

This wasn't just a bad idea this was a going to be a mistake of epic proportions.


	7. Fast Tracked

Stella waited impatiently by the fax machine, tapping her foot and checking her watch. It was a little after one and she had just got a call from her friend, Gina Theophilus. Gina was a crime reporter for the New York Post, and they had met at the courthouse a couple of years ago, during a high profile murder that Gina had been covering.

Normally Stella didn't have much use for reporters, but Gina was different. She wasn't a bottom feeder like some of her more annoying colleagues and she always was willing to work with the police when it came to a story. It made her one of the most well connected reporters on the crime beat because she had the respect and trust of a lot of cops and government personnel. It was because of those connections that she had called Stella.

The CSI's mind drifted back over the conversation; fueling her anger.

"_Bonasera," Stella answered, clicking on her cell phone._

"_Stel, I've got somethin' ya need to see." _

_It was Gina, her friend from the Post, as usual coming straight to the point. Stella smiled. It was her friend's philosophy that life was too short to waste time on the phone. She always said she believed in three things, short phone calls, strong coffee, and good sex. She believed that a well balanced combination of the three would lead to immortality._

"_What have you got?" She asked and adjusted her phone so she could hear better._

"_Alex Davis was arraigned today. Entered a plea of not guilty."_

_Stella frowned. "That was fast. How did he get before a judge so soon?"_

_Gina snorted. "Yeah well, when Carl Riker gets something fast tracked he can usually get the red tape brigade to move at twice the speed of light. He got a preliminary for next week. But that is not the worst part. I've got a copy of his motion to suppress. You need to see it. It's gonna be trouble for your CSIs."_

_On her end Stella frowned. "Fax it over and Gina, I would be grateful if you can keep this out of the press."_

"_I can't promise that 'cause I'm not the only reporter that gotta hold of this. I'll try to make them look good though. I've always liked Danny, he's a good kid, and that new girl Monroe. She don't take no crap on the stand. You gotta like her for that. I gotta go Stel, duty calls."_

Gina had hung up without saying goodbye as was her custom and Stella had headed for the fax machine. She checked her watch again and sighed impatiently. Finally a piercing screech emitted from the machine and a few seconds later a ten page document, filled with legalese came through.

She picked it up, stapled it, and started reading through the part that Gina had underlined for her. She cursed when she was done, something that she seldom did and went looking for Mac.

* * *

Stella caught Mac as he was heading out to a crime scene. Her expression betrayed the fact that she did not come bearing good news. She stalked over to him, her eyes alight with her anger and handed him the document that Gina had just sent her. He took it and perused it with the sinking feeling that things were about to go from bad to worse. 

"I got a call from a friend of mine. She told me that Riker has managed to get Davis's preliminary hearing before a judge by next week. You were right. He plans on attacking Danny and Lindsay's creditability to get the evidence thrown out. That's the motion to suppress that he filed."

Mac stopped walking and faced his partner and friend.

"Why do I get the feeling that there is more and that I am not going to like it?" Stella grimaced.

"Because you are a very smart man and Riker is a parasite on the under belly of humanity."

Her boss shot her a look; she sighed and continued.

"He's going to use the sexual misconduct case from Bozeman to claim that Lindsay acted inappropriately towards Davis during the interrogation. Don't ask me how, I was never a big fan of fiction, but knowing Riker he is going to make that unfortunate incident sound like Watergate. As for Danny…he is going to bring up the shooting."

Mac started. "How did he get a hold of that information?" Stella shook her head. Her frustration showing.

"I don't know. How does he find out anything? Think about it. Since she was cleared that incident wouldn't be on her permanent record, which means we don't have a record of it."

Mac shook his head to indicate that they didn't.

"So how the hell did he find out? It doesn't make any sense. And as for Danny, he might have heard the rumors but he shouldn't have access to internal files."

She frowned. "You know if he goes ahead with this then it is very possible Internal Affairs might get involved."

Mac glanced at her reassuringly. "I don't want you to worry about that. I have Flack making some calls and keeping an eye on IAB. Frankly, I think he was happy to have something to do. He told me cabin fever is setting in. Also Danny called me and told me that he is going to get Lindsay out of town for a few days. I didn't ask him where because I would like to keep plausible deniability an option. We are going to play a shell game with the defense so Riker won't be able to serve them with a subpoena."

Stella shook her head. "But the A.D.A has them on her witness list. They are going to have to take the stand eventually." Mac smiled.

"That's true. It's called picking your battles. By keeping them off of Riker's witness list the A.D.A can choose when she wants to put Lindsay and Danny on the stand. It gives us something that we already have precious little of, time."

She smiled at him and nudged him with her shoulder. "Mac Taylor, who would have thought you had it in you to be so subversive?"

He shot her a quelling look but he couldn't quite hide his small grin.

"In the mean time I want you and Hawkes to go back over the crime scene with a fine tooth comb and see if we can find anything there that Danny and Lindsay might have missed. If the worst happens we need to have evidence that neither of them had their hands on."

Stella crossed her arms and eyed Mac.

"And what about Danny and Lindsay and the little matter of them keeping their careers?"

His eyes looked grim.

"I'm going to take care of it. There is no way that this guy commits a murder, attacks one of my people, and gets away with it."

She tilted her head and regarded him. "So what are you going to do?"

Mac smirked and started walking away. He called over his shoulder before reaching the elevators.

"I'm going to call in a favor."


	8. Revelations

Danny and Lindsay were on the rode with-in a half an hour of picking up the cabin's keys from Danny's cousin. The pick-up they were taking on this little adventure was new, a red '06 Titan, and proclaimed Tony's Customizing and Auto Repair on the side of each door in large letters. In smaller font the words Foreign and Domestic, appeared below the picture of the garage.

They had been on the road for almost two and half hours, talking little and listening to an oldies station on the radio. Lindsay smirked. The radio station had been a compromise of sorts, because her tastes ran towards country and classical and Danny's, well, didn't. He favored rock and roll both classic and modern, the classic she could deal with, even she liked The Stones or The Beatles every once in a while. It was the modern that she couldn't seem to wrap her mind around.

The thought crossed her mind that she was a little country and he a little rock and roll and she couldn't help but laugh.

"What's funny, Monroe?" He asked. She jumped because it had been almost twenty minutes since he last spoke to her and she turned to find him smirking at her.

"Donny and Marie"

He cocked an eyebrow in her direction.

"Osmond?" She nodded and smiled widely at him. Her dimples flashed and her eyes sparkled and he felt his heart skip a beat.

"Okay, I'll bite. What about The Osmonds?"

She shook her head ruefully and turned to take a quick look out the window. Danny suddenly felt like he had been basking in the glow of the sun only to have it snatch unmercifully away from him. He wanted her to turn back towards him; wanted to see her smile, and he thanked whatever god happened to be smiling on him when she did.

"You know that old song? _A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock and Roll_? I had a mental flash of us."

Danny's smirked morphed into a smile as tried to keep his attention on her and the road at the same time.

"I hope you don't expect me to sing, Montana. 'Cause, not gonna happen."

She laughed and the sound went through him like a jolt of electricity. She had no idea how beautiful she was when she laughed.

"You sing Messer? Perish the thought."

His smirk became a frowned. He didn't really like that fact that she thought him singing was a joke. She was right; but he didn't like it.

"Oh and I suppose you can do better, Miz Monroe?" He taunted.

Her laughter died. She went silent and turned away from him to look out the window and Danny realized he had inadvertently hit a nerve. He cursed. Here she was smiling and laughing with him and he has to go and blow it.

"Aw hell, Montana I'm sorry. I didn't know that…" She cut him off.

"It's all right Danny, let's just drop it." She still wasn't looking at him and he cursed again. Him and his big stupid mouth.

"Linds…I…" He didn't really know what to say so he trailed off and turned his attention to the road. A few minutes passed and she sighed deeply.

"No Danny, I'm sorry." She took a deep breath and lifted her head from the window to face him.

"Do you want to know why I became a CSI?"

Danny didn't so much as twitch a facial muscle because he could tell by the tone of her voice that this was a loaded question. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and licked his lips. Did he really want to know? Yeah he did, but he had a feeling that the knowledge would change him. He would know something personal about Lindsay Monroe that the rest of the team didn't and she would creep into his heart just little bit further.

They had grown a great deal closer to each other in the last few days and if things kept going this way he could end up in love with her. He knew it as surely as he breathed and it scared the hell out of him, but he was also a CSI and curiosity was one of the pitfalls of the job. He already knew, even before he started his internal debate that he wanted to know. Unanswered questions were against his nature. Danny licked his lips once more and did the only thing he could do; he nodded for her to continue.

"I didn't always want to be a criminalist. When I was ten I actually decided I wanted to be a singer. My mom was really great about it, she encouraged me, even signed me up for voice lessons. I don't know if she really expected to me to stick with them. I mean, I was ten, so before I decided on being a singer I had a lot of other future career interests."

She was smiling softly and Danny couldn't help but ask.

"Whadidya wanna be?"

She waved her hand dismissively. "Oh the usual, you know fire fighter, super hero, bull rider."

He blinked and ginned. "You wanna'ed to be a bull rider? At ten?"

"Sure, I loved the rodeo. Why? What did you want to be?" He shook his head and thought back. What had he wanted to be?

A little uncomfortable he answered. "I wanna'ed to be a wise guy."

She looked at him like he had just grown an extra head and he focused on the road.

"As in Mafia?" He nodded. "How did you go from that to being a cop?"

He shifted uncomfortably again and turned the question back around on her.

"I thought we were talkin' bout you, Montana? How long did ya end up takin' them singin' lessons?"

Lindsay assessed him critically, realizing that he had no intention of answering her, and went back to her narrative. A wave of sadness washed over her.

"I took them until I turned sixteen."

"What changed?" He asked softly. He was both curious and fearful what her answer would be. She was staring straight ahead but he knew she wasn't seeing the road. She had turned inward and was re-living a memory that had caused her a great deal of pain.

"It happened when I was a sophomore at Bozeman High School. I had just turned sixteen. It was spring, about two weeks before Spring Break and I had the lead in the musical the drama club was putting on. We were doing Chicago and I was Roxie Hart."

"I would'a liked to see that," he interrupted and Lindsay smiled.

"Down perv boy," she teased and then sobered. "We were half way through opening night when the police showed up. You see my Mom had to work late, she worked at this legal firm as a secretary, and she couldn't make opening night. I remember being so angry with her for that and we had a fight about it before school that morning. That was the last time I saw her alive."

"Damn Montana, I'm sorry."

She couldn't look at him and he could tell she was blinking back tears. She seemed determine not to cry in front of him. He gave her a minute to compose herself and when she finally had herself back under control she continued.

"Someone had attacked her in the parking lot of the firm. She was raped and beaten and the local cops never found out who did it. That was the worst part, not knowing who or why. Some phantom bad guy takes my mother away from me and I couldn't…"

She was blinking back tears again and Danny couldn't stand it. He had to comfort her so he took her small hand in his and laced his fingers with hers. She graced him with a small, watery smile.

"I decided then that no one should have to go through that. I stopped singing and turned my attention towards school and I earned a scholarship for Montana State University. My first year there I wasn't sure what branch of law enforcement I wanted to be in until a old friend of my dad's came to stay at the ranch with us for a little while. He was a CSI out of Billings and when he told me about what he did, how he was the one that found the evidence to put criminals away, I knew that was what I wanted to do."

Danny squeezed her hand lightly and she was grateful for his support. She hadn't told anyone about her mother since college but she was suddenly glad that she had told him.

"You know, you're a helluva CSI, Montana." She blinked at him in surprise and he licked his lips. "I mean, I know I gave ya a hard time, still do sometimes, but you do good work."

His voice was a little gruff. Danny wasn't comfortable giving praise. Sure he'd tell Mac when he thought she had done good, but to tell her to her face?

Her hand twitched and he stilled. He hadn't realized that he was still holding her hand. He looked down at their entwined fingers and watched a slow blush creep up her neck. She let go at the same time he did.

"Whaddya say we stop for dinner?" He asked. She nodded quickly and he pulled off the highway.

They found a small mom and pop diner and pulled in. Neither mentioned the hand holding incident nor did they talk about it when the got back into the truck, but both felt another brick crack in the walls that they kept around their hearts


	9. Scene of the Crime

**Author's note: I'm sure by now everyone has read about the submission problems. I'm going to try to upload this in txt like everyone else has but after that I am going to have to wait for the MS Word submissions to be fixed due to the format of the next couple of chapters. I apologize. I had been working on this story a few weeks before I initially started posting it so it is close to completion. I will post the rest as soon as I can.**

Sheldon Hawkes shined his flash light around the basement of Alex Davis' house in Queens. The place felt like a tomb. The walls were stark gray and the room only had one small window, covered in grime, which kept any sunlight from filtering in.

There was an old water heater in the corner and one bare bulb hanging from the ceiling in the center of the room.  
The air still held a very faint wisp of bleach and as far as he could tell there was nothing in this stark basement that was going to help them.

His thoughts drifted to the crime scene photos of Rachel and Julie's bodies. This cold, depressing place was the last room that those two little girls had seen. He shuddered. It was a hell of a way to die.

Sheldon reached up with his glove covered hand and pulled the cord to turn on the light. The dim bulb illuminated the area closest to the stairs but the rest of the room was left in darkness.

The rest of the house hadn't been any better. It had been clean, which surprised him, but the whole place was decorated in a way that reminded him strongly of his grandmother's house as a boy. There were doilies everywhere and the whole place was furnished with sofas and chairs sporting the plastic covered, puke green floral motif popular with people in the late forties early fifties.

In short, it was the house that time forgot. It was also damn creepy. Sheldon heard a noise at the top of the stairs and turned to shine his flashlight at the doorway.

Stella Bonasera held up her hand to block the glare.

"Care to tone down the flood light, Hawkes?"

He grinned and lowered his arm. Stella gingerly made her way downstairs while balancing both her kit and her flash light.

"Dracula is missing his crypt," she commented and Hawkes cracked a wan smile.

"I don't know how we are going to find anything here. There's nothing but concrete," he said and gestured across the room.

Stella smiled. "Come on Hawkes; we're CSIs. We specialize in haystacks and needles."

He shot her a rueful grimace. "Needles I can do, but I have yet to perfect miracles."

Stella placed her kit at her feet and knelt down to open it. She took a pair of latex gloves out of their compartment and snapped them on her hands. She then stood and gave the basement a once over.

"Then we better get started on parting the Red Sea."

Hawkes chuckled and shook his head, while he shined his light over in the far corner of the room, so he could play it over the wall. He knew that Danny and Lindsay had walked a grid in here, and was thinking that maybe he and Stel should do the same, but at a smaller ratio. He suggested as much to Stella and she agreed.

They set it up using a smaller grid of squares, and meticulously walked the grid inch by painful inch. They were looking for anything, a fiber, a hair, a foreign substance, anything. What they found was a room so clean it would make a hospital chartreuse with envy.

Frustration mounting, they met in the middle of the room and played their flashlights over the grid again.

"Okay, maybe we are approaching this all wrong. What should we be doing different?" Stella asked. Hawkes shook his head, not sure.

"Let's reconstruct the crime. I'll be Davis."

Stella nodded. "I'll be the girls."

Sheldon took another look around. "All right. I planned this crime. I looked for the girls, stalked them, got a job at their school, kidnapped them and brought them here. I set this room up in advance, which means I must have planned to keep them for more than just one day. When did their parents report them missing?"

"Three days before they were discovered in the park," Stella replied.

Sheldon pressed his palms together and brought his fingers to his lips.

"And according to Sid they hadn't been dead for more than twelve hours, when they were found. I obviously planned to have then for a few days and I would have kept them down here. There must have been something down here for them to sleep on, because I wouldn't have wanted to rape them on the cold stone floor."

Stella picked up the thread.

"Ok I'm Julie and Rachel. We are both terrified, probably cold. We don't know why we are here and we just want to go home. We might have looked for a way out, tried the door, the window, anything, but there was no way out. So we huddle together on the floor and wait."

Sheldon paced over to the stairs and then turned to face the room.

"All right, I'm going to want them accessible and submissive. That's probably why I kidnapped two of them, but how do I control them both while I'm raping one of them? What if one of them decided to do something foolish, like try to run?"

Stella walked over to the stairs and stood next to him.

"Maybe you told us that you would kill us if we didn't do what we were told. Maybe you tied one of us up while you raped the other one. Too many maybes," she said, frustrated.

"They were found bound so at one point I did tie them up, but Danny and Lindsay didn't find any fibers in this basement. Could the bleach really have gotten ride of all the fibers? Even if there was nothing for them to lie on, they still had uniforms. The bleach would have gotten ride of any biological evidence, but couldn't have washed away fibers."

Stella ran her flashlight over the room again, a frown of concentration furrowing her brow. Hawkes made a good point. Davis should not have been able to remove every single fiber from this room, especially if the girls were here for a couple of days. The rules of transfer where against it, unless. The thought was too horrible to even contemplate.

"What if they were naked?" She whispered.

Her partner shot her a horrified glance but he couldn't deny the ring of truth her statement held. The crime scene photos flashed through his mind once again, along with snippets of Sid's autopsy report. He shuddered and said softly.

"That would explain it, but we're still missing something here, Stel."

She nodded.

"Okay, we are naked, possible bound, and probably with nothing to sleep on but the bare floor, because if not there would be fibers from whatever we slept on. The concrete is rough and any sort of fabric should have snagged on it."

She frowned and continued, slipping back into the third person.

"So how did he rape them? He would have hurt himself trying to do something like that on this floor. Not to mention that it would have made things very difficult."

Hawkes walked over to the middle of the room and knelt under the light bulb so he could run his hand over the floor.

"You're right, this surface is rough. A grown man holding down a girl would have scrapped himself, unless."

Sheldon raised his head suddenly, an epiphany causing his expression to light up.

"He didn't rape them here. He took them up stairs one at a time and raped them."

Stella started nodding, a slow smile alighting on her features.

"Which means we have a secondary crime scene."


	10. Cabin by the Lake

It was late when they finally arrived at the cabin in Black Lake. Lindsay had fallen asleep about two hours back and was currently curled up in the passenger seat, snoring softly. Danny had been thankfully that she had drifted off for two reasons; one was because she had been so tired she was going to drop, and two was because it gave him the opportunity to study her.

He couldn't figure out what this hold was that she seemed to have over him. He had known beautiful, intelligent women before, had been good friends with a couple and dated more than his fare share, but they had known the score. He didn't do commitment and he was upfront about it.

The problem was with Lindsay the score card didn't stand a chance in holy hell of surviving. She was beyond the rules, an anomaly that refused to be stuffed into an easy category, and Danny liked things in his personal life to be easy and uncomplicated.

Now here he was, stuck in at a remote cabin with her for the next few days. He hoped his self control held out. With a sigh he ran his hand through his hair and then leaned over so he could shake her gently.

"Hey Montana, ya gotta wake up for me. We're here."

Lindsay came awake slowly, groaned, and stretched so that her shirt pulled tight and accented the outline of her breasts. She withered like a cat trying to shake off the last vestiges of slumber and Danny was momentarily struck dumb.

"It's late," she commented, her voice husky from sleep. Danny blinked at her like she was speaking a foreign language. He shook himself. _Enough of that Messer, _he warned.

"Yeah it's late. Why don't you go on inside and I'll get the stuff."

Lindsay shook her head. "No, I'll help. There is too much for you to carry in by yourself."

They had stopped at a mega-store they had passed on the way up and stocked up on foodstuffs and some spare clothes. Neither of them knew how long they would be here and they hadn't wanted to have to recycle the same two outfits. Besides, Lindsay had needed something besides her heeled work boots and the trainers she had packed in her emergency bag. She had settled on a pair of stylish pink and tan flip-flops, which she had on at the moment. They looked a little silly with her work clothes but at least it got her out of her heels.

Lindsay felt cramped in the confined space of the truck and stretched again when she got out, arching her back and lifting her arms high above her head like she was going to jump off the high dive. She turned slightly so she could also work the kinks out of her side and caught Danny looking at her. He quickly looked away, but not before she had caught the look in his eyes. He had looked, hungry. She shivered and walked around to the back of the truck.

"Here you take these and I'll get the heavy stuff," he said, thrusting their duffels at her. Her lips quirked into a grin.

"Is this macho crap because I'm a girl or because you are too tired to pretend to be politically correct?" Danny paused and gave her the once over.

"Both," he said and grunted. He had just pulled the heavy cooler he had bought to hold the perishables and was trying to heft it towards the door. He managed to wrestle it up the three wooden steps to of the porch and to the front door when he realized that he had left his keys in his right-hand front pocket. He groaned.

"We going in?" Lindsay asked from behind him. He scowled.

"Yeah, just give me a minute. I gotta get the keys outta my pocket." She huffed in frustration.

"Here, let me do it." Before he could blink she had come up beside him and thrust her hand into his jeans. Danny froze.

Her hand was there for only a second but it conjured up all of those dangerous mental images that he had been trying to repress. To his own chagrin she didn't even seem to notice that he was fighting a losing battle with his libido as she opened the front door.

He followed her, watching the sway of her hips as if mesmerized and shook himself. He tore his attention away from her and took a look around the cabin. It wasn't what he had expected.

"Rustic must mean something different in Montana," Lindsay commented.

The cabin was beautiful, with a large stone fireplace in the middle of a well appointed living room. The sofa, love seat, and single arm chair were dark tan and looked deep enough to sink into. Natural wood gleamed around them, from the walls to the oak floor and there were knickknacks everywhere.

Lindsay and Danny made their way deeper into the room and headed towards the kitchen. He placed the cooler on the cool floor and looked around. The kitchen was medium size and functional, with gleaming chrome appliances, beige tile, and wooden cabinets.

"Gives a whole new meanin' to back to nature don't it, Montana," he said and whistled appreciatively.

She rolled her eyes. "I can't believe this is what Flack considers camping. I've been in hotels that were less comfortable."

"You complainin'?" She walked into the kitchen and ran her hand over the marble top of small island in the middle.

"No, just commenting. You city folk are wusses." Danny crossed his arms, licked his lips, and cocked a bemused eyebrow in her direction.

"I suppose you have been out in the big bad wilderness with just a blanket and some beef jerky."

"It's called hard tack and yeah, something like that."

He had a mental flash of Lindsay standing naked in a field with a blanket draped over her shoulders. He mentally cursed. He had to stop doing this to himself.

"I'm gonna get the rest of the food. Why don't you check to see what kinda sleepin' arrangements we're gonna have to come up with."

She nodded and started towards the back of the cabin while Danny went out to the truck to get the rest of their stuff. The night air was brisk and it did wonders for his overheated thoughts.

He went around to the back of the truck and grabbed the rest of the bags, closing the tailgate. He felt much more in control of the situation by the time he had cleared the door and put all the groceries away. When he was done it occurred to him that Lindsay should have been back by now. Curious he walked into the back to where the bedroom and bath were located. He entered the darkened room and grinned.

Lindsay was laying on the huge king size bed on top of the light green comforter and she was fast asleep. Shaking his head he silently crossed the room and gently pulled the comforter and sheets out from under her so he could cover her. She stirred slightly and blinked at him drowsily.

"Danny?"

"Shh, go back to sleep," he whispered. Her eyes drifted shut.

"'Kay," She rolled and took his hand with her, tucking it between her breasts. Danny stopped breathing.

"Nice hands, strong, feel good on me," she mumbled. He nearly choked.

"Linds, I need that back," he said and tried to pull away. Her grip tightened and he almost howled in frustration.

"Don't go, feels nice."

He was dead and this was hell. He knew that it had to be hell because only the devil would torture him like this. She drifted deeper into dream land and he slowly but surely was able to extract his hand.

He sighed in relief when he finally regained his freedom and headed for the door.

"Oh Danny," he heard her mumble in her sleep, he froze in the door way and looked back. She had a small smile on her face and her hand…Sweet Jesus he had to get out of here. Danny bolted for the living room and sank down fully clothed onto the sofa.

He was in for another sleepless night.

* * *

Lindsay walked into the bedroom and was surprised yet again by how comfortable this cabin appeared to be. This was the only bedroom as far as she could tell and the bed dominated most of the room. It was a huge king size bed nestled in a hand carved wooden bed frame that lifted it a foot off the ground. 

The frame was custom made and had the skyline of New York before 9/11 carved in the headboard. She ran her hand over the twin towers and across the tip of the empire state building before moving around to the end of the bed.

The baseboard had an NYPD shield carved in it with the words, Fidelis Ad Mortem underneath. She smiled and traced the words with her fingers. It was the motto of the NYPD. The translation from Latin was literally, Faithful Unto Death.

Her mind caught on those words and she replayed the events of the past few months coming to rest on Aiden Burn and Don Flack. She couldn't help but think that the words were appropriate, especially in Aiden's case; who literally had been faithful unto her death. Even without having ever known her she knew that people like Aiden were a loss that this world could ill afford.

Saddened, Lindsay let her mind drift to a replay of the last few days and the thought occurred to her that her team was no slouch in the faithful department, either. They had stuck by her and Danny in a way that a lot of co-workers wouldn't dream and she was thankful.

With a sigh she turned away and surveyed the rest of the room. It was painted the same pale green as the comforter on the bed and the only other piece of furniture in the room was a bureau made of the same kind of wood as the bed frame.

Lindsay kicked off her sandals and dropped the scarf she had been wearing all day on the floor next to them, and laid down on the bed. She sank into the comfortable mattress and instantly felt the tension of the day leave her.

This was perhaps the nicest bed she had ever had the pleasure of sinking into. Her eyes felt heavy and fluttered even as she fought to keep them open. She needed to go and talk to Danny first, but her body had other ideas. She fell asleep still wearing the clothes she had put on this morning. So much had happened since then that it felt like a lifetime ago.

As exhausted as she was it wasn't long before she slipped deep enough into her slumber to dream.

In her dream she groaned as Danny slipped into bed beside her and started trailing kisses down her neck, to her breasts.

"You are so beautiful," he said and Lindsay moaned in her sleep when his mouth found her nipple. He was trailing opened mouth kisses lower, down the valley between her breasts, past her ribcage, over her abdomen and lower still but for some reason he wouldn't put his mouth on the ache between her legs.

Suddenly she felt something tugging under her back and frowned. She came partially awake and questioned the man who had previously been making her body sing.

She thought she heard him tell her to go to sleep, but that couldn't be right. She reached out and found his hand, smiling as she clutched it to her breast.

It felt so good to have his hands on her and she fell back into her dream. Finally he found the ache she needed filled and slipped his fingers into her. She murmured his name in her sleep and followed her dream lover into oblivion.


	11. A Favor

It was earlier at the city building that housed CSI's laboratories and offices and Mac Taylor was enjoying the relative quiet. His peace as short lived. A beautiful brunette wearing a light beige designer power suit walked into his office carrying a briefcase. Her dark hair fell in soft curls half way down her back and her three inch Manolo Blahniks showed off her shapely legs. It was an expensive outfit for an A.D.A but then she wasn't just a humble servant of the city of New York, she was also the daughter of one of the wealthiest developers in Manhattan.

"Mac, what have you done with my witnesses!" She demanded, entering his office. He shot her his best rueful smile.

"Good morning to you too, Jessica."

Jessica Astor crossed her arms and glared at the Detective seated before her. She normally really liked Detective Taylor. He was her kind of cop, tenacious, with a thoroughness that was military precise and a tendency to follow the rules. At least, that is how she would have described him to someone two days ago, before two of his CSIs went AWOL.

"Don't you good morning me, Mac. I've got a trial coming up in a few days and my technical experts are gone. What am I suppose to do about that?"

He looked down at his desk, picked up a pen, and started to sign a stack of paperwork that needed his signature.

"You could stall," he said, matter of fact. The A.D.A blinked at him.

"You're afraid that this gambit Riker is trying to finagle is going to succeed aren't you?"

Mac looked up at her.

"Let me put it this way. Both Danny Messer and Lindsay Monroe have been granted vacation time that they requested almost a month ago. I have the paper work right here if you would like to see it. I have no idea where they might have gone but I can guarantee that whenever you choose to put them on the stand they will be back."

Jessica frowned down at him and nodded curtly.

"I'll call you and let you know when I need them to appear and for the record, Mr. Riker will not be getting our evidence thrown out of my court. No matter how many stories he tries to sell."

Mac smiled at her as she sashayed out the door, passing Sheldon Hawkes who had just arrived. The young CSI watched her go, riveted.

"See something interesting," Mac said. He had come up behind the young man and he started in surprise.

"Ah, no…I mean…who is she?"

Mac motioned for his CSI to come and join him in his office. He rounded his desk and sat back down in his chair, but Hawkes remained standing.

"That was Assistant District Attorney Jessica Astor. She is prosecuting the case against Alex Davis and speaking of the case. What have you got?"

Hawkes pulled his mind, with some difficulty, back to the matter at hand and away from the sway of Jessica Astor's hips.

"Stella and I found a secondary crime scene." Mac leaned forward.

"Go on." The CSI rounded the desk and went to stand by his boss so he could place a report in front of him.

"We found out that he may have kept the girls in the basement but he raped them in his bedroom. We didn't find any biological evidence. Mr. Davis is very adept at using bleach, but we did find some interesting fibers. Three of which are consistent with the material used in the uniform skirts worn by the girls at Rachel and Julie's school."

Mac frowned and picked up the report.

"That goes a long way in confirming what Lindsay and Danny found, but only if their evidence stays in. If not then the defense can just claim that since he worked at the school and was in contact with the children, then the stray fibers could have got on his clothes that way. What we need is to find Rachel and Julie's uniforms, preferably in Davis's house."

Hawkes nodded in agreement and pulled out a second report.

"That's not all we found. The headboard like almost everything else in the room had been wiped clean with bleach but he missed the wood underneath the right corner. We found traces of trichloromonofluoromethane and dichlorodifluoromethane, both of which are mixed with albuterol as propellants."

Mac finished the thread.

"In fast acting inhalers. Didn't one of our vics suffer from asthma?" Sheldon smiled and nodded in satisfaction.

"Julie Martinez. Her medical records show that she suffered from mild to moderate asthma. Her records also show that her physician had prescribed an albuterol inhaler to be taken as needed for shortness of breath."

Mac also smiled. "Which can be brought on by new allergens or even adrenaline activity."

"Mr. Davis doesn't have asthma," Hawkes added.

"So there should be no reason to find asthma medication in his bedroom. That's good work, but we still need more."

Hawkes nodded and put the reports back in the manila folder he was carrying.

"Stella and I are going back again today. We are going to see if Davis's might have ditched the girl's belongings the same way he ditched the items he used to cover up his crime."

Mac nodded and leaned back in his desk chair.

"Keep me posted." Hawkes smiled, said he would, and left. Mac drummed his fingers on his desk silently regarding his cell phone. After a moment's contemplation he picked it up and dialed a familiar out of state number.

_Detective Taylor. To what do I owe the pleasure? _

Mac smiled and stood up so he could pace his office.

"Lieutenant Caine," he paused and added. "How are you Horatio?"

The red haired gentleman on the other end cracked a half smile and turned to watch as his CSI, Eric Delko, strap on his diving gear so that he could fish a cadaver out of the water.

They were parked just off the four lane highway on I-75 known affectionately in Florida as Alligator Alley. It was not just a cute misnomer to draw in tourists; the long stretch of black top that connected the East and West coasts of Florida was a hang out for the leathery reptiles. Motorists have been known to see them just off the road, basking in the Floridian sun and some had even had the misfortune of hitting them.

_I've been all right. What can I do for you, Mac? _

Mac almost smiled. That was just like Horatio, always strait to the point. It was one of the things he liked about the Lieutenant.

"I need a favor. You mentioned that when you worked here there was a man, a private investigator, who helped you during a high profile murder case. I would like his name."

H shifted his stance and turned to watch the passing cars on the highway. It was still early, so the traffic was lite and it was also summertime. Traffic thinned considerably in South Florida once the snowbirds and tourists fled back up North to get away from the sweltering heat. Not to mention it was the beginning Hurricane season. Miami was not the place to be during Hurricane season.

Horatio was silent for a moment, deliberating. He had agreed to keep the P.I.'s identity a secret due to his connection to the murderer. Mac knew as much and it lead H to deduce that he wouldn't be asking unless it was important.

_Now that is a very big request. Can I ask why you need it?_

Mac paced over to his desk and leaned one hip against it. He was now staring out the glass partition into the main corridor of the lab. He could see people arriving to start their day.

"I have a man that I need to have investigated and I can't use any of my people."

Mac then briefly outlined the situation surrounding Alex Davis, Carl Riker, and his two CSIs, Danny and Lindsay.

In Florida, Horatio turned back towards the Everglades and watched as Delko slipped into the water.

_Say no more. His name is Lewis Whitney. He has an office in Manhattan and his number is 555-8621. Give him my name and he will help you._

Mac pushed off from his desk and grabbed his suit coat off the back of his chair.

"Thanks Lieutenant, I owe you."

H nodded even though Mac couldn't see him and scanned the water for any sign of his CSI. Suddenly and orange buoy rose to the surface. It was Eric's signal that he had found the body.

_Good luck, Detective_

Neither man said good bye, but there was no need. They both hung up at the same time, one focused completely on the body that his CSI was bringing to the surface, and the other on how to save the careers of the two bright, young Detectives that he had in his keeping.


	12. Men are from Mars

Danny was already awake when Lindsay shuffled out of the bedroom. He was in the kitchen on his cell phone, making breakfast, and scattered around him was the carnage of a half dozen eggs. A paper plate with bacon and one with toast were already on the small table in the breakfast nook, along with a carton of orange juice. Lindsay yawned and meandered towards the smell of coffee. There was a fresh pot on the counter and she poured herself a cup, adding cream and sugar. She took a fortifying sip and felt marginally more human.

Danny was pacing the length of the small kitchen and he looked upset. Concerned, Lindsay tried to listen in to his end of the conversation, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"Damn Stel, are you sure?" He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.

"Yeah, yeah. Hell, I don't know. Naw nobody. Does Mac have any ideas?" His expression changed suddenly.

"You and Hawkes found a Secondary?"

Lindsay perked up when he said that, instantly awake.

"We wondered 'bout that but when Lindsay found the stuff in the dumpster we had more than enough ta bring him in. Keep us posted will ya? Yeah. All right."

He hung up and looked up at his partner. She was barefoot and she had showered and changed into a pair of khaki shorts and a white tank top. Her wavy, tawny hair was still wet from the shower and curled delightfully around her neck. His first thought was that she looked much too good in the morning for his peace of mind, but his lustful thoughts took a back seat to the phone call he had just ended.

"Stella," she said and he nodded.

"She told me that her and Hawkes found a Secondary. Seems Davis took the girls upstairs to rape them."

Lindsay frowned and walked over to the table so she could set her coffee down. She had to squeeze past Danny to get there and he had a flash of the vision she had made last night as her body brushed up against his. He caught a whiff of the light floral scent of her shampoo and had to suppress his groan.

"We checked the bedroom but didn't find any biologicals. That was before we knew he used a condom," she said, over her shoulder.

Danny frowned and moved to the stove so he could start cooking the eggs.

"Yeah, neither did they, but they found some fibers that could'a come from Rachel and Julie's uniforms."

Lindsay nodded and sat down at the table.

"They just can't prove it because we can't find the girl's personal items," she deduced, correctly. Danny sighed in frustration.

"Yeah, that 'bout sums it up. You like your eggs scrambled, Montana?" Lindsay dragged her attention away from the case and smirked at him.

"Wow, a man who cooks breakfast. Maybe I should have accepted your proposal when I had the chance."

He looked up, puzzled. "Which proposal?" She smiled and took a sip of her coffee.

"The marriage proposal during the Mann case."

Danny laughed and added the eggs to the hot skillet, stirring them as he spoke. He remembered that case. Tyrell Mann had gone first round in the NFL draft only to be murdered in his hotel room. Lindsay had been kneeling over the body taking pictures when he had walked in and had proceeded to give him Tyrell's stats. He had half jokingly said he should marry her.

There in lay his problem. If Lindsay was just another good looking woman with the brains of Paris Hilton on crack then he wouldn't be worried. His problem was that she was wicked smart, funny, had a strange array of interests that stretched from Opera all the way to football, and she was fearless enough to take down suspects and eat bugs.

Hell, even the Davis thing hadn't fazed her, not really. She may have been scared when it went down, but afterwards she had just been pissed. She didn't want the little bastard to walk anymore than he did.

"Sorry Monroe, that was a one time offer. You should'a snapped me up when ya had the chance."

Lindsay chuckled and grabbed a piece of bacon to munch on.

"So what else did Stella have to say? You looked upset when I walked in."

Danny turned back to the skillet and avoided her eyes. He scooped the eggs up, put them on a plate, and carried them over to the table. He sat down opposite Lindsay and started to fill his plate up.

"It was nothin' important."

His body language and voice clearly told Lindsay she should drop it but her curiosity was piqued. She cocked her head to the side and regarded him over her coffee cup. Danny wouldn't have been upset at Stella and Hawkes finding the secondary scene. He would have been pleased that their fellow CSIs found evidence that supported theirs. That meant that something else must have happened with the Riker situation.

"Danny." He looked up from his eggs and regarded her. He wasn't wearing his glasses so she had a clear view of his crystal blue eyes. He looked troubled and their was residual anger lurking beneath their depths.

"What else did Stella tell you?" He frowned at her and poured some orange juice.

"Just drop it, Montana," he warned.

Lindsay was quickly progressing from concerned to annoyed. Normally she wouldn't push Danny when he didn't want to talk about something, because she knew how he would react, but circumstances were hardly normal right now.

"No, I'm not going to drop it. It's Riker isn't it? He's found something out about you like he did with me and the misconduct charge?"

Danny pushed away from the table and stalked into the living room, but Lindsay wasn't about to let him get away with that so she followed him.

"Danny, talk to me. We are in this together and I need to know in case it comes up in the trial."

He was pacing the living room like a caged animal and he still wouldn't look at her.

"Danny!"

He snapped.

"Jezus Lindsay, just leave me the fuck alone, okay?"

Hurt and anger flashed in her whiskey eyes and she turned away from him. The next thing he knew she was headed for the back door.

"Montana?" She wouldn't speak to him; she opened the door and stepped out.

He blinked; a myriad of emotions from confusion, to anger, to remorse, constricting his chest.

"Montana wait, where are ya goin'"

She paused and turned back to him with a look that could strip paint. She was shaking with rage.

"I'm doing what you told me to do, Messer. I'm leaving you alone. It's seems to be how you work best."

She stalked out and slammed the back door hard enough to rattle the pictures on the wall.

He didn't go after her; instead he sank down onto the sofa and held his head in his hands.

_Smooth, Messer, really fucking smooth._ He thought. With a sigh, he wiped a tired hand over his face, got up, and started cleaning up the kitchen. She made him crazy and she had no idea.

Danny knew that he should have just told her what Stel had said. Hell, it wasn't like she probably hadn't already heard about it. Cops liked to gossip and when Internal Affairs got involved their tongues started wagging even more. He was just pissed that Riker, the little shit stain, had gotten a hold of that piece of his slightly disreputable past. He was also afraid that if he could find out about the shooting then he could also find out about Louie and the Tanglewood boys.

Lindsay had no idea what it was like to grow up in the kind of neighborhood he had. Where he was from there were two kinds of people, those who had connections and those who didn't, and if you didn't then you had to watch your ass and be tougher than the next guy in order to survive.

That kind of growing up didn't leave a lot of room for trust. He was always trying to stay one step ahead, until Louie became a member of the Tanglewood boys. He hit high school and for the most part he was left alone because he was Louie Messer's little brother.

Danny's mind drifted back over the last few months and his brother. When Louie got beat up by Sonny and his crew, Danny had found out that he had started treating him like he did, because he didn't want his little brother to get caught up in the same illegal shit as him. He had wanted more for Danny than that kind of life and the result was that he and Louie had never been closer.

Louie still wasn't completely right after he got out of the hospital. He limped noticeably and sometimes he would lose his train of thought when he was talking, but at least he was alive. Danny knew enough now to know, that if Louie hadn't done what he did when they were young he would have followed in his brother's footsteps. He hadn't been kidding when he told Lindsay that he wanted to be a wise guy. He had been young and stupid and had only seen the respect that the gang seemed to get from the neighborhood.

Now, he was old enough to tell the difference between respect and fear. Danny also realized that he owed Louie more than he could ever repay, because if it hadn't of been for that night near Giants stadium, Danny would have never turned his life around.

He was the person he was today because of his brother. It had taken a lot of soul searching to come to terms with that, but in the end he was grateful.

Danny knew that despite everything he had real respect now; the kind of respect that came from giving victims a voice. He and his co-workers went to the front lines and pieced together the story; how they lived, why they died, and who deserved to pay for it.

They were the Justice League without superpowers, and it made what they did heroic.

The respect he got for busting the bad guys though was only part of it. He also had the respect of his co-workers, even if he wasn't always secure enough in himself to understand and accept it.

He had Lindsay's respect and the reason he had practically chased her out of the house was because he was terrified of losing it.

Danny finished cleaning up the kitchen and went to take a shower. He didn't know how he was going to fix this. He paused; as soon as the thought crossed his mind he amended it. He actually did know how to fix this; the problem was that it required him to give her what she wanted. It required a piece of his soul.

Danny just wasn't sure if he had it in him to do it.


	13. The Lion and the Rat

Mac Taylor's morning had gotten off to a rocky start and his afternoon wasn't shaping up any better. With Danny and Lindsay gone and Stella and Hawkes on the Davis case, he was doing a little shuffling.

He had a couple of the lab personal that occasionally assisted in the field working scenes under the supervision of some more experienced cops, but despite the extra hands he still had spent the majority of his morning at the scene of what appeared to be a murder/suicide. Needless to say, he was not in the best of moods and the rodent waiting for him by his office threatened to make a bad day, worse.

Carl Riker was the last person he had wanted to see, good day or bad day not withstanding. A deep frown transformed his face before he shifted his features into a blank mask.

"Mr. Riker, what can I do for you?"

The lawyer had been facing away from Mac and he started, but recovered quickly. It would have been a kind of poetic justice if Carl Riker had resembled the rat that befitted his personality, but unfortunately the fates had been kind.

Carl was a very handsome man and what was worse he was grossly aware of that fact. A majority of his good looks came down to genetics, but the rest was maintained by the careful cultivation that only money can buy.

He had perfectly styled dark hair, green eyes that he inherited from his paternal grandmother, a perfect smile that was the handiwork of the best dentist in Manhattan, and soft, manicured hands that a supermodel would kill for.

He was dressed in a dark gray suit that cost more than an economy car and a pair of black shoes that ran somewhere above the thousand dollar mark.

Mac pretty much hated him on sight, but that was because he had no patience for men like Riker. He also knew better than to underestimate him.

"Detective Taylor, I was wondering if you happened to have seen two of your employees? Daniel Messer and Lindsay Monroe?"

Mac eyed him briefly, keeping his face and body language neutral.

"I'm afraid that they are not available. Anything I can do for you?"

Riker's smile never wavered, but annoyance flashed very briefly in his green eyes before the cordial mask fell back into place. His investigators had been unable to locate the two detectives and he was slightly perturbed that he was going to have to adjust his strategy.

He regarded the Detective before him. Mac Taylor cost him his only loss throughout his career and he wasn't a forgiving sort of person. So he had agreed to take on Alex Davis' case, simply because he knew that the two weakest links in Mac's team had worked it.

Stella had the recent shooting she was involved in, but she had acted in clear self defense so he couldn't exploit her. Sheldon Hawkes was so well respected him, he might as well be a boy scout, and Mac's past would just induce sympathy in the jury. Of course, this case wasn't going to see a jury.

"Detective, I have a suspicion that you are actively interfering with the rights of my client. I had trouble believing it at first because Mac Taylor doesn't do anything that isn't by the book, but since I can't seem to get a subpoena served to either Detective Monroe or Detective Messer, I can only assume that they are hiding."

Mac shook his head.

"I don't keep track of my people in their off hours. I'm sorry you can't find them but there is nothing I can do."

He didn't sound in the least bit sorry and Riker's mask almost slipped again.

"You can't protect them forever. Our lovely A.D.A. will have them take the stand to defend their evidence and I have every confidence after the judge hears their testimonies that he will have no choice but to throw out the shoddy work done in this lab."

Mac bristled and the attorney for the defense marked it as an internal victory against the stoic CSI. His smile faltered when the ex-Marine took a step closer, invading his personal space.

"You are not going to get away with trying to drag my team and my lab through the muck. Now, get out of my building."

Riker instinctively stepped back and straightened his tie to hide the fact that Mac had made him uneasy.

"Is that a threat?" The CSI's lips twisted into a grim half smile.

"No, a promise."

The attorney pulled the cloak of his adopted veneer around him and nodded elegantly at the Detective.

"I'm sure I'll see you in court, Detective Taylor," he said and left.

Mac watched him go with hooded eyes. A few moments later Stella came up behind him. She had been watching the whole thing through the glass partition in the lab.

"I thought I smelled something foul. What did he want?" Mac started walking towards trace and she fell into step beside him.

"What else? He wanted Danny and Lindsay."

She frowned in the direction that the little cockroach had just scurried and then refocused on her boss.

"For him to come all the way over here, seems like he's worried."

Mac nodded. "He was fishing. He doesn't like the fact that he can't find Danny or Lindsay, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't have a contingence plan."

Stella gazed at him thoughtfully and asked. "So what do we do now?"

He paused and met her eyes. "The fibers are a good start but I want you to take a second or even third look if you have to and dig deeper. We need more."

She nodded in agreement. "And what are you going to do?" He smiled at her in a very mysterious fashion, piquing her curiosity.

"I'm going to see a man about a lawyer."

His cryptic response not only confused her but left her staring after him in surprise. She shook her head, a rueful smile gracing her full lips. The longer she knew Mac the more perplexing he seemed to become. She shook her head again, realizing that she wasn't going to find out what he was up too, until he was ready. Stella smiled and started off in the opposite direction so she could meet up with Hawkes.

While she was waiting for her boss to enlighten her she figured she might as well get some work done, so she had decided to take his advice.

She was going to dig deeper, and when she was done they were going to bury Alex Davis so far down, he wouldn't ever again see the light of day.


	14. The Idiot’s Guide to Groveling

Danny had thought to give Lindsay a little time to cool off, but when lunch time came around and she hadn't returned, he decided to go look for her. She hadn't been hard to find. She was down by the lake, sitting of the dock, with her bare feet dangling just above the water and her face tilted towards the sun.

He was struck again by how beautiful she was, with the sunlight glinting off of her silky hair and her eyes shut. She looked like a priestess making an offering to Apollo. Too bad that it didn't make the upcoming conversation any easier.

Danny shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans and walked down the length of the wooden dock. He was sure she heard him coming but she didn't turn to look at him, not even when he sat down next to her.

"Hey," he said softly. For a minute he didn't think she was going to answer him, but she finally replied just as softly.

"Hey yourself."

He ran a nervous hand through his hair and started twiddling his thumbs. He still wasn't wearing his glasses and the lake looked slightly blurry. He watched the dark water as it rippled slightly in the breeze.

"Stella called to tell me that Riker found out 'bout the shootin' I was involved with last year."

Lindsay turned to regard his profile, studying his eyes. Even without the barrier of the glasses she couldn't tell what he was thinking. She waited patiently for him to go on, afraid that if she spoke he would clam up again.

"I'm sure ya heard 'bout it. Cops are worse than old ladies when it comes to gossip."

She nodded. "I might have heard a mention or two." 

Or three, she added silently to herself. The truth was she had heard all about it during her first week on the job. At the time she had figured it confirmed the opinion she had developed of him at the zoo, but now she considered the whole thing hearsay. She had wanted to ask him about it a dozen times, to get his story, but had always been too chicken. Now though, he was going to tell her and she felt a fission of fear race up her spine.

He was so guarded about his personal life and she was afraid that if she knew too much about him then a time would come when she wouldn't be able to shrug off these feelings that he invoked deep inside her.

Who was she kidding? She was already in danger of that.

Danny looked down at his hands and turned to face her.

"I'm gonna be honest, Monroe. I'm not really sure anymore what happened that day. Me and Mac, we entered this apartment and this guy, he was hidin' in the closet. Well I pretty much trip over him and he bolts. I go after him and chase him a few blocks down into the subway. It was so clear when it was happenin. He shot first and I shot back, or at least that is what I thought. Turned out the guy was Rodney Minhas, an undercover cop. Mac kept tellin' me to stay outta it, kept sayin' that my story didn't fit the evidence. The way Mac said it went down was that Minhas identified himself and was goin' after this other guy named Michael Anderson. Incidentally he was supposed to be the guy that I started out chasin."

Danny wiped a hand over his face again and turned back towards the lake.

"I made the mistake of talkin' to Chief Hilborne, the guy from IAB that investigated, 'cause with the way Mac and everybody was actin' it felt like they had already hung me out to dry. Me and Mac, we was never really the same after that ya know? I mean it's gotten better but sometimes I still feel like he don't really trust me anymore. Accordin' to Mac, I got lucky when IAB came up short in the evidence department and didn't press charges."

Lindsay didn't know what to say. She had always picked up on a different kind of dynamic between Danny and Mac but she had never imagined it went so deep.

His story illuminated a lot of things she hadn't really understood about their relationship and Danny's pressing need to prove himself. She found him watching her again with unfathomable eyes and she knew that what she said next could make or break this something that hung between them.

"Danny, I'm not going to trivialize what you told me by telling you that everyone makes mistakes and you are only human," she said carefully and added.

He bristled a little and she reached out to grasp his forearm.

"We're cops, more importantly we're CSIs, and even if we make mistakes we don't have the luxury of them. That said, you are one of the best detectives that I have ever worked with, and please don't point out that I haven't been on the job long enough to meet many detectives. Despite what you think of Bozeman, there were some really good cops there. Every time we process a scene together, or question a suspect, or interrogate a perp, I make a choice that I'm going to trust you, and I haven't regretted the decision to do so once since I started working here. Not even when Davis tried to choke me. So if you hoped to scare me off with that story then you're out of luck mister."

He didn't respond for the next two minutes and Lindsay was afraid that she might have said the wrong thing or gone too far with her honesty. She was looking deep into his impossibly blue eyes and she still couldn't figure out what he was thinking.

"You're beautiful, do ya know that?" He said, finally. She started a little, the comment unexpected, but not as unexpected as what he did next.

He gave her plenty of warning, she could have pulled away, but she didn't. Ever so slowly he leaned in and brushed his lips once, twice against hers in a feathery caress, her eyes fluttered closed.

Lindsay felt him move closer to her and his hand tangled in her tawny hair as his mouth crashed down on hers. She moaned and leaned into the kiss, her tongue battling with his. My God he was a fantastic kisser. She should have known that he would be as through in this as he was in the lab.

She had wanted this, wanted to feel this total lack of control and abandon. Heat pooled between her thighs as he ran his other hand up her spine and angled his head to take the kiss deeper, make it hotter.

She was dying, slowly, blissfully; she had never thought a kiss could bring her to her very knees. His tongue, his teeth, his lips, did things to her, wanton, sexy things, which is why when he stopped she felt like someone had pulled a rug out from under her and left her flailing.

He was watching her again, this time with blue fire burning in his gaze. He licked his lips and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

Before he could speak his phone rang and he glanced down at his belt with an evil glare. Danny pulled the offending object off his belt, checked the display, and cursed.

"I'm sorry, Linds, it's Mac," he apologized and stood up.

He pushed a button and put his phone to his ear. "Hey boss, what can I do ya for?"

Lindsay touched her bruised lips and watched him walk down the dock, back towards the house. She was too stunned to move and left to wonder how such a little thing, like a kiss, could change everything.


	15. A History of Violence

Alex Davis had been in jail before. His long and somewhat varied criminal career had started at the tender age of thirteen, when he had boosted his neighbor's car. He was sent to juvie for a year and was on probation till his fifteenth birthday.

He got popped again when he turned sixteen for possession of marijuana, spent another six months in juvie.

At nineteen he got his first felony charge and did two years up state for assault. He got lucky after that, had managed to stay under the radar until he turned twenty-five and got sent up for assault with a deadly weapon.

When he got out of prison the second time something had changed in him. His need for violence had grown exponentially along with his need to induce pain. He had also learned the best way to achieve his needs was through careful planning and precise order.

The first woman he raped was a freshman at NYU named Alyssa McKenzie. He attacked her while she was walking across campus to her dorm room. He grabbed her from behind and fucked her under a tree that was well out of range of the security lights. She was only eighteen years old.

He had worn a condom, gloves, and she had been able to fight back, so he was never caught. Six months after the attack Alyssa committed suicide. She couldn't live with what had happened to her, at least that is what the note that she had left her mother had said.

The second girl he raped was sixteen year old Maria Sanchez. She had been walking home from a friend's house and he pulled her into an alley. He beat her first before raping her, and after repeated blows to the head she was never the same. Her grades started to slip and she couldn't comprehend certain simple concepts anymore.

The third girl he raped was where he made his first mistake. Her name was Dominic Wilson, she was fourteen, and she saw his face. The NYPD had to cut him loss because she had only caught a glimpse and she had been unable to identify him in a line up.

The fourth girl he raped, fifteen year old Melissa Jenkins, also saw his face but when they put him in a line up for the second time she had been too frightened to identify him.

Melissa Jenkins became a turning point for Alex. She was his transition from rape to murder, for one simple reason. If his victims were dead then they couldn't identify him, or so he thought.

Alex stood in the corner of the closet that Rikers Island tried to pass off as a visitation room and twitched. He took a nervous drag of his cigarette and checked the gray walls for the clock he already knew wasn't there.

He couldn't believe that bitch CSI and her partner had found that bag he had thrown away three blocks from his house. He didn't even know what could have possessed her to look there.

Davis cursed and check around the room again. He was wondering where the hell his attorney was, not that he was all that thrilled to be meeting with him.

Truth be told, he didn't trust Mr. Carl Riker as far as that pretty little bitch CSI could push him. When all that shit had gone down with that guy, Messer, he had just been spouting any kind of shit he could think of at their boss. Then next thing he knows this attorney whose mug he'd seen in the papers shows up and says he's representing him.

He'd gone along because it was better than a pubic defender any day, and the guy had told him that he would be able to get the evidence against him thrown out. Said he could make life difficult for the detectives who arrested him.

It had all sounded good a couple of days ago, until Davis found out that Riker, the little pissant, couldn't find them.

He took another drag of his cigarette and paced to the other side of the room. He swore he wouldn't go back to prison, not after that last time. Rikers he could deal with, because they were only holding him until his preliminary, but he couldn't do another joint up state.

He drew in another nervous puff and jumped when the door to the small room creaked open. A guard was at the door and he escorted his attorney, Carl Riker, into the room. The asshole had the nerve to shoot a warning glare at him before he left them alone.

Carl smiled that plastic smile that made Alex want to rearrange his dental work and sat down.

"You're late," Davis hissed. A flash of annoyance crossed Riker's brow, but it was gone an instant later.

"Contrary to what you believe Mr. Davis, you are not my only client."

Davis snuffed his cigarette out on the edge of the table, while Carl put his briefcase down in the middle. The expensive Italian leather looked out of place against the dented metal.

"So, hows about telling me why I'm still in here. I thought you were going to get the evidence they had on me thrown out?"

Riker ignored his snarling client and sat down, opened his case, and took out a file folder.

"I would have but unfortunately I can't seem to locate the detectives that found the evidence. Without them it would do no good at this point to surprise the A.D.A and have them move the trial date up again."

He watched his client frown and pace to the other end of the cell. He seemed to be even edgier then usual.

"Whaddaya mean it wouldn't do any good? It would get me outta here." The attorney shook his head.

"You're mistaken. As of right now the detectives who arrested you are her witnesses, not mine. She's the one that gets to call them to the stand and she has complete control over when that might be. They have to, my relative shock, managed to protect their key pieces and right now we are in check."

Davis glared at him and fumbled in the front pocket of his prison issue jumpsuit. He pulled out another cigarette, put it between his lips, and lit up. He took a long, calming pull before meeting his attorney's eyes.

"Ya wanna know what I think? I think this is bullshit. That whole discrediting thing was all ya had and now that little hick bitch and her shit head partner have messed it up for ya by pullin' a disappearin' act."

Riker scowled at his client. If this human piece of filth hadn't been the best way to get to Mac Taylor and his team then he would have never taken this case in the first place.

"I can still discredit them. It will just be later rather than sooner. Never fear, soon you will be a free man. Now if you will excuse me, I have a luncheon to attend."

He was in the middle of snapping his briefcase shut when Davis rushed forward and grabbed him roughly by the arm.

"You listen here. I ain't gonna let you fuck this up for me. I'm gettin' outta here, one way or another."

His attorney glared at him and pulled his arm forcefully out of his grip.

"You touch me like that again, and useful or not, I will personally make sure that you spend the rest of your days buried deep with-in a cell in Attica."

Riker called for the guard and the two men glared at each other until the attorney was let out. The guard returned a few minutes later to collect Davis. He finished his second cigarette and let the guy cuff him and lead him back to his cell. Riker was one crazy motherfucker if he thought that Davis was going to let him get away with gambling his future. It was time to say the fuck with Carl Riker and to take matters into his own hands.

* * *

It was late when Mac finally got out of the office and made his way to the pub three blocks from Cozy's, the club he played bass in on Wednesday nights. The pub was on the corner and it was a blink and you'll miss it kind of place, the kind that made no pretensions about what it was and served beer, wine and hard liquor on the rocks or in shots.

Even its name dispensed with any sort of ostentatious B.S. The place was simply called McAllister's, and it was packed.

Mac gingerly made his way through the crowed; pass the gleaming polished hard wood bar, to the far corner booth in the back.

The man he was coming to meet was already there, smoking a dark European cigarette and nursing two fingers of twelve year old Chivas Regal scotch, straight. He swished the gold tinged amber liquid gently and took a sip. He had yet to acknowledge that Mac was standing next to him.

"Detective Taylor, I presume. Please, have a seat."

Mac eyed this man and had a little trouble equating him with the man that Horatio had spoken so highly of. His little run in with Davis was too fresh in his mind and he couldn't help but see the similarity between this man and the attorney.

Then Mac saw his hands and his opinion shifted. Lewis Whitney had the hands of a man who had seen more of life than just the inside of a nail salon. His nails were just as neatly kept as Riker's but he had scars and calluses over the expanse of his skin. There was nothing pampered about Lewis Whitney, elegant yes, but never pampered.

What made Mac sit down across from him though, were Whitney's eyes. He had eyes that were slat gray, intelligent, calculating, and he wasn't afraid to stare straight into Mac's face.

"Horatio speaks highly of you." Mac said. Whitney's lips quirked into a small smile.

"Which did not stop you from forming your own first impression. I find that I admire men who are careful not to let hearsay, even from a respected colleague, influence their judgment."

Mac's own lips twitched up into the barest hint of a smile.

"I don't think I know a police officer who is blindly trusting, at least not one that is alive."

Whitney inclined his head in agreement and motioned for the waitress.

"Would you like a drink, Detective?"

A pretty red head, who was nineteen if she was a day, came over to the table. She was dressed fairly tastefully as cocktail waitresses went.

"Deana lass, please fetch Detective Taylor a drink and have Ryan put it on my tab."

The waitress smiled warmly at Whitney and asked Mac what he would like.

"I'll have what he's having but with ice." Deana winked at booth men, giving Mac a quick once over, before heading off to the bar. Mac shook his head and focused his attention on the P.I.

"So your accent, Scottish?" The other man raised one perfect eyebrow in surprise.

"Very good, Detective. I must admit to being impressed. Most Americans, New Yorkers especially, seem to think that I am English. I even had one drunken Chap call me a mick once, a mistake which I strongly corrected, but to answer your question, yes, I am Scottish. I was born in Edinburgh."

Deana returned then and placed Mac's drink in front of him with a flirtatious wink. He smiled but it had a rueful, disbelieving quality to it. She left them to see to another customer and they resumed their conversation.

"Deana seems to have taken a fancy too you," Whitney remarked. Mac shook his head, slightly embarrassed.

"I'm flattered, but she's…very young."

The Scotsman snubbed out his cigarette and took another sip of his scotch.

"I must say I hadn't expected to like you Detective Taylor. There are not many men that I do. Now, you mentioned on the phone that you needed someone investigated. Who is this man and why are you unwilling to pursue him through the proper channels?"

Mac shifted uncomfortably and took a sip of his own drink.

"He's an attorney. His name is Carl Riker." Whitney let out a low whistle.

"Powerful man. I say, you sure know how to pick quality enemies." Mac's half smile returned.

"I'm starting to find that out. He is currently trying to discredit two of my CSIs and I would very much like to know how he is getting his information on them. He has found out things about them that he shouldn't know."

"And you believe that if you were to start a formal investigation then he would find out, and you would be unable to obtain the answers you seek," Whitney concluded, correctly.

The P.I. tapped one graceful forefinger against his glass and took another sip. He was regarding the CSI with an unfathomable expression.

"You're ex-military are you not?" Mac started and gave a slow nod.

"Why do you ask?"

Whitney shrugged in an elegant fashion and shifted in his seat so he could cross his legs.

"Mere curiosity. I find that those who once were members of the military still carry themselves as if still enlisted. Old habits, I suppose."

He smirked and pulled an engraved, silver business card case out of the inner pocket of his designer suit. He snapped it open with one hand and handed Mac a card. It was printed on heavy, expensive beige paper and simple read Lewis Whitney and Associates, on the back were two numbers.

"I will investigate this attorney for you Detective Taylor. On the back you will find both my personal office line and my mobile number. Now, if you would be so kind as to excuse me."

Mac nodded, neither surprised nor fazed at Whitney's abrupt departure. He had been a cop much too long to let much of anything surprise him anymore.

"You have my number."

Whitney inclined his head.

"Certainly; until next time Detective."

With a flourish the P.I. placed enough money on the table to cover his tab and added a generous tip for the lovely Deana. He left without saying good-bye.

Mac finished his drink and declined another when Deana came by to collect the money Whitney had left for her, and tried to interest Mac into coming by her place for a night cap. He sort of grinned at her in a bemused fashion and politely decline. She seemed disappointed when she collected the two empty glasses and headed back to the bar.

Mac shrugged into his suit jacket, got up, and left the small bar, almost blushing as Deana shot him one last flirtatious smile. As he cleared the door his thoughts turned towards the man he had just met.

He now understood completely why Horatio spoke so highly of Mr. Whitney. He was an intriguing man, but despite his appeal Mac truly hoped after all this was said and done, that he never saw Mr. Whitney again.

He had a sinking feeling that if he ever did see him again after this mess, he wouldn't like the circumstances.


	16. Slow Heat

Danny Messer was truly the most exasperating man she had ever met, and that was saying something considering she hailed from a family of annoying and overprotective males.

With a huff she remembered an incident during her teen years, after her mom had been killed, involving her father, a shotgun, and the captain of the football team running nearly naked through a cow pasture. His name was Mark Duncan and he had been her first and last high school boyfriend.

Poor boy, he had run so fast that he had pulled a hamstring and had to sit out of the final game of the season. Needless to say, her father's little stunt had ensured her virginity until she went to college, because none of the boys at Bozeman High School had been willing to pursue her after that.

Her eldest sister, of course, had found the whole thing hilarious, especially since she was with Lindsay's little brother when he had to return the clothes that Mark had left behind.

She had been furious with her father at the time and she couldn't imagine a man that could drive her even more insane that he had. She had been wrong. Danny Messer was going to put her in an asylum long before her father had the chance to.

Lindsay wanted to throw something at him, preferable something hard and breakable.

She was currently in the living room on the couch, pretending to read the latest Carl Haissen novel and had spent most of the day in disbelief as a grown man did everything in his power not to be in the same room as she for longer than a few seconds.

Sometimes she just couldn't figure Danny out. Not to mention that he goes and kisses her like that, getting her all hot and bothered, and now he was treating her like she had leprosy.

Lindsay wasn't stupid. She knew exactly why he was avoiding her. He was afraid he couldn't control himself.

She was hoping that they might talk about what happened between them at the dock, but apparently acting like a mature adult in this situation was beyond him. He had decided to pretend it hadn't happened at all and frankly that just pissed her off.

Lindsay sighed. She still wasn't sure if pursuing this attraction they seemed to hold for each other was a good idea, but at least she was willing to admit that it existed. She was a direct sort of person and she tried to never actively lie to herself.

She had kissed him and it had been, well damn hot came to mind, and deep down she had known that if they came here, alone, together, that they were not going to be able to keep up their particular brand of denial.

Back home, what with their jobs, their friends, their separate but equal lives, they had been able to pretend. They had been able to ignore those instances when they would get too close, inadvertently touch, laugh together, or even go on what most would consider impromptu dates.

They had been able to chalk it up to friendship or mutual respect for a colleague. They had been able to ignore the fact that they seemed to generate heat just by standing in the same room together. Out here though, and with everything that had been happening, it was a different story.

Maybe, if he hadn't kissed her then she might still be able to compartmentalize her feelings and tuck them back down into that secret place known only to her, but no, he had to go and put that talented mouth on hers.

Lindsay's eyes drifted shut; she could still feel his lips moving over hers, still feel the rush of heat low in her belly. She shifted her thighs and groaned. Sweet Jesus but that man could kiss. He should be labeled as a mind altering narcotic in all fifty states and like any good dealer what does he do? He gave her the first hit free and left her wanting more, the bastard.

The urge to throw something at him grew even stronger. He was currently out back grilling hamburgers for dinner, using the excuse that it was a nice night to be outside. She had called his bluff when she had offered to keep him company and he had sputtered that he probably wouldn't be out there very long.

Well, she had had just about enough of his back pedaling. She wasn't going to suffer alone and figured since he thought he could go and wind her up then he was going to suffer as well.

Lindsay placed her novel on the coffee table. She figured since her current mood was alternating between wanting to tear his clothes off or beat him to death with a bat, having an easily accessible projectile would not be a good idea.

She slipped into her sandals, got up, and joined him on the back porch. She knew that he had heard the door opening, but he wouldn't look up at her. No way was she having any of that. He was going to acknowledge what he had done to her and he was going to do it right now.

"Messer, we need to talk," she said and crossed her arms. He sighed heavily and finally looked up from the grill. He appeared…nervous.

"Montana? How do ya like your burger?" She glared at him and stalked over to him, invading his personal space.

He shifted uncomfortably and tried to put some distance between them, but she had him cornered.

"Danny, tell me why you're avoiding me."

It wasn't really a request, it was more of a demand and a dare all wrapped up into one. She wondered if he would admit to wanting her if she forced the issue, but he was stubborn.

"I ain't avoidin' you, Montana. I'm cookin' dinner. So, how do ya want your burger? I'm goin' with medium rare."

Lindsay took a step closer, so close that she was almost touching and looked up into his eyes. He was frowning and shuffling his feet.

"Let the damn hamburgers burn and stop dodging the question. Now, why are you avoiding me?"

He swallowed and his gaze burned into hers.

"You know why, Monroe. You and me, we'd be a mistake and I ain't gonna screw up your life by makin' things more complicated."

She lifted her hands and ran her fingers under his wife beater across his abs. He sucked in a ragged breath.

"Bullshit, Messer. You aren't afraid of making a mistake, you're just afraid of me." She stated matter of fact.

Hell yes he was afraid of her. He wasn't stupid either. He knew that if this went were it was inevitably headed he would be in danger of knowing what it felt like to be with Lindsay, instead of just fantasying about it. The closer she got though, the less important that danger seemed to become. He licked his lips.

Her hands moved from his stomach slowly up his ribcage and up his chest. Danny closed his eyes. When she flicked a nail over one of his distended nipple his eyes flashed open.

"Fuck it," he said, pulled her tight against him, and captured her mouth with his. She moaned and he shuddered when her tongue flicked out and ran along his.

His hands were busy as he moved them over her ribcage, down her stomach, so he could cup her ass. He lifted her and she responded by wrapping her legs around his waist, never losing contact with his mouth.

She broke their kiss and started kissing him down his neck stopping at the junction where his neck met his shoulder blade so she could suck lightly.

"Sweet Jesus," he exclaimed and his knees almost buckled. Lindsay smiled wickedly against his neck.

"Like that, Messer?" He grunted and moved them towards the back door bracing her back against the wood.

"You're gonna pay for that, Montana."

He kissed her long and deep and braced her with one arm, while he ran his free hand up her ribcage to cup her breast. He almost lost it when he realized that she wasn't wearing a bra.

Danny gently tugged on one distended nipple and she made a mewing sound into his mouth. She broke contact for a moment in order to say one word.

"Bed." He was only happy to comply. He gently ran his hand down the valley between her breasts and over her stomach, making her shudder.

Lindsay made a sound of protest when he stopped the caress so he could reach around behind her and open the door. The back door flew inward and he almost stumbled and sent them crashing to the floor, but he managed to keep his balance.

He almost fell again when one of her hands snaked between their bodies and brushed his erection. Danny hissed and sucked in a harsh breath.

"Careful, Montana or we ain't gonna make it to the bed." She kissed him along his jaw and then tugged on his earlobe with her teeth.

"Don't care, need you," she whispered. Danny almost came right then and there. Sweet Jesus but she was hot. During their stumbling progression they knocked two pictures off the wall and broke a vase, but they managed to make it to the bedroom.

Danny and Lindsay tumbled onto the bed together, mouths fused and hands everywhere. He broke their kiss for a moment and she lifted her arms so he could take off her tank top. She reached for the hem of his, but he had already beat her too it and pulled it off.

He pulled her against him again and she gasped when her sensitized peaks came in contact with his hard chest. He responded by lowering his head and taking one of her tight nipples in his mouth and running his tongue around the pink tipped areola.

Lindsay groaned and ran her hands over his shoulders and grasped the back of his head.

"Danny, I want," she gasped. "I want you inside me…now," she commanded. He smirked and ran his tongue over her stomach, down to her belly.

"I think I can help ya with that, Miz Monroe."

Danny grazed his hands up her bare thighs, to the button on her shorts. He worked quickly, undid them and slid them slowly down her legs. Finally, she was naked and he took a moment to look at her.

Lindsay was beautiful. Her skin was smooth and taught and the silky hair between her thighs was the same tawny color as her hair. His gaze moved higher over her taunt stomach and well proportioned breasts, to her slightly too wide mouth, to meet her liquid brown eyes. They had grown darker with her arousal and glowed hot like polished amber.

He didn't say anything but his gaze held hers as he sneaked a hand up her body and slipped two fingers inside of her. She gasped and bit her lower lip, but held his gaze while he worked his hand in and out.

"Danny," she whimpered and started to buck her hips. He stifled a groan.

He was so hard he was going to burst his jeans. Still working her he used his free hand to unsnap his jeans and roughly worked the zipper over the heavy bulge. He had to pull his other hand away from her to kick them off and she protested the loss with a delicious keening sound.

Finally free he pulled himself up her body so that he was positioned over her.

"Last chance Montana, there is no goin' back once we do this," he said gruffly. She met his gaze defiantly.

"Enough talk, Cowboy," she said and kissed him. He didn't need anymore encouragement and he plunged into her, hissing in pleasure.

She was wet and so very tight that he stilled for a moment to let her adjust. He could tell by her face that he had hurt her a little, but she didn't say anything. When he hadn't moved Lindsay bucked her hips and drew him deeper.

Danny responded by pulling out and plugging back into her, slowly at first but soon they were meeting each other with frenzied thrusts.

Lindsay had closed her eyes and was biting her lip so hard he was surprised she didn't draw blood. He loved the sounds that she was making. She was so responsive to his touch and his ego wasn't beyond a slight feeling of superiority that it was him making her moan.

He thrust faster and bent to lick and suckle her breasts. The combination of his wet mouth suckling her and him thrusting deep inside her was too much and she came, hard.

Danny felt her convulsing around him, milking him, and he couldn't hold on. His release hit him with her name on his lips like a battle cry, before he collapsed beside her.

They were both still breathing heavy when Danny propped his head up on his elbow so he could look at her.

"Still alive, Montana?" She a smiled in a very satisfied way and rolled towards him.

"I'll let you know," she said and kissed him. He groaned and rolled over on his back so that she was on top of him. He broke off breathing hard.

"Ya need ta give me a minute here. I ain't Superman." She grinned and snuggled into his chest.

They stayed that way for a few minutes until Lindsay got bored and decided to run her tongue around his flat, brown nipple. He groaned and she smirked when she felt him rising to the occasion against her thigh.

"Looks like you're up for round two, Cowboy."

Danny growled and rolled her under him.

"You are dangerous, Monroe, very, very dangerous," he grunted and kissed her long and deep. When he let her up for air she pushed him on his back so that she could straddle him. She was ginning at him in a mischievous manner.

"You want to know the thing I miss most about Montana?" Danny licked his lips and nodded.

"I miss riding," she said and impaled herself on him. He growled deep in his throat and steadied her hips with his hands.

Danny and Lindsay made love again and in the middle of the night she even managed to squeeze a third round out of him.

Danny couldn't believe how incredible it felt to be here, right now, with her. She was going to kill him, but what a way to go.

He hadn't had this much of a workout in a while, but as he sunk into her warm for the third time he couldn't help but think that no matter how many times he did this he was never going to be able to get enough. It was a scary thought.

Right now though, he wasn't going to think about it. Danny moaned as she twisted her hips in a delicious fashion. All that was important to him at this moment was the fact that she was beneath him, murmuring his name like a prayer, and he had never heard anything so sweet in all is life.


	17. Murphy’s Law

Stella Bonasera cursed and rubbed her tired eyes. Danny hadn't been kidding when he called Davis a slippery bastard. As far as she could tell he didn't seem to be particularly smart, but he was just one of those criminals where no matter how many times they thought they had him cold, he managed to slip through their fingers. Looking at the files it seemed it was equal parts luck and planning on Davis' part.

Stella met the gaze of her partner, Sheldon Hawkes as he looked up from the file that he had been perusing. He graced her with a sympathetic glance.

She sighed and reached for another folder and started mucking through the miniscule font. The only thing that the files had managed to confirm was that Davis was a real piece of work. It wasn't exactly breaking news.

Stella made a sound of disgust and dropped the file on top of a pile of discard papers.

"We are getting absolutely no where," she groused. Hawkes glanced up again and frowned.

"That's not true we have the fibers and the traces of inhalant medication." She started shaking her head and ran a tired hand through her long, dark curls.

"True but Mac was right. It isn't enough. We need to find another place to look."

Hawkes shifted his eyes back to the file in his hand and tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully. A half formed idea had taken root in the back of his head, but it was a long shot at best. After seeing the frustration etched on his partner's features he decided that maybe it was time to bet on the long shots.

"I might have an idea." Stella glanced up sharply.

"I'm all ears." He grinned and scooted over to her so she could look at the file he was holding.

"This is Davis' psych eval. The psychiatrist that examined him believed that he suffered from mild OCD tendencies."

Stella cut in.

"Obsessive/Compulsive? That would explain the excessive use of bleach at the crime scene." Sheldon smiled and his eyes confirmed that she was correct in her deduction, as per usual.

"It is also explains his reaction to Lindsay finding that bag he discarded. He doesn't leave himself room for mistakes nor is he willing to even admit that he makes them."

Stella stood up and started to pace, her mind working furiously.

"So he is ordered, meticulous, but not necessarily overtly intelligent. Where are you going with this?"

Hakes stood up as well and paced over to where she had stopped.

"Well, it got me thinking about his house. It was like stepping back in time. If I remember correctly he grew up in that house and inherited it from his grandmother. Normally people tend to make their habitats a reflection of themselves, but not Davis."

"And what do you make of that?" She asked, curious. Hawkes pointed to a notation in the file he held.

"It's right here. According to his eval Davis has a driving compulsion to hold on to objects he deems emotionally valuable. He, quite literally, wouldn't have been able to throw away the girls' personal items. He would have been compelled to keep them."

Stella finished his thought.

"Because in his mind he has an emotional attachment to the girls." She tapped one slim finger against her teeth.

"So the questioned becomes, what did he do with their things?"

Hawkes walked over to a pile of folders and started rooting through them. He was looking for the crime scene report that Lindsay had submitted. He made a small noise of triumph when he found it and rejoined Stella.

"This is Lindsay's report, it covers the search and recovery of Davis' house and the surrounding areas, but what is much more important is the area it doesn't cover."

Stella frowned. Her partner was gazing at her knowingly, waiting for her to come to the same conclusion he had. The instant it did a slow smile quirked her lips.

"They didn't search the school where Davis worked. There was no need." He nodded, satisfied.

"The best part is that since the girls went missing right before classes let out for the summer the school has been sealed tight."

Stella nodded, already having come to the same conclusion.

"So anything Davis might have stashed there is still going to be there. So what do you say Hawkes? Want to go to Summer School?"

He smiled and gestured towards the door.

"Lead the way."

* * *

There was a skip in Stella's step when she returned to the lab that morning. The school had been a rousing success by anyone's standards. She and Hawkes had met the head custodian there early that morning and he had let them in.

They had almost lost hope when a search of Davis' small office and locker turned up nothing, but they had hit the jackpot in the neatly arranged storage room.

Hawkes had been the one to find the bag in the far corner, hidden inside a break in the wall.

The catch had been a gold mine. They had found the girl's clothes, purses, and more importantly, an inhaler with Julie Martinez's name written on it in permanent black ink. D.N.A. would confirm.

Hawkes was in the lab right now doing the necessary analysis on the items, and Stella had no doubt that they had finally found something that would bury Alex Davis for good.

She was on her way to Mac's office to tell him the good news.

Stella rounded the corner and she could see him through the glass, standing by his desk on the phone. Mac was hard to read at the best of times but in all her years working here she had never seen a look on his face like the one she was seeing now.

A shiver started up her spine and she cautiously poked her head in his door.

"Hey Mac, got a minute?"

He glanced up and waved her in, but didn't speak. She waited patiently as he gave monosyllabic sounds of understanding while he listened to the speaker on the other end.

He hung up a few moments later, his face grim.

"Stel, what can I do for you?" He asked. He didn't go into whatever it was he had just learned and Stella didn't ask, even though she was desperately curious.

"Good news. Hawkes and I found Rachel and Julie's personal affects. Hawkes is in the lab right now going through them."

Instead of being happy about her news Mac's frowned deepened. She blinked in confusion; it was hardly the reaction she had expected.

"This is the part where you tell us we did good work," she prompted. She was half joking.

"That is good work, but I'm afraid it might be wasted," he replied, cryptically. Stella stood up and placed her hand lightly on his forearm.

"All right Mac, out with it. What's going on?" He met her eyes.

"That was Jessica. She got a call earlier this morning from Rikers Island. It seems Alex Davis has escaped."

Stella cursed and Mac's lips twisted into a wan half smile before morphing back to a frown of concern.

"What! How! When!"

Mac shook his head.

"He was taken to the infirmary late last evening, with a nose bleed and what looked like a wound made by a shiv on his arm. It had taken a couple of stitches but it wasn't as deep as it had first appeared to be. The doc in the infirmary now says he thinks it was self inflected. They don't seem to know how he got away from there."

Stella made a low sound of disgust in her throat and asked.

"So what now?"

Mac almost smiled. That was only one of the many things he really liked about Stella; her unwavering belief in him. On the days when he wasn't sure he even knew what he was doing, she would ask him for the plan like it never once occurred to her that he didn't have one.

It was a hell of a thing to inspire that kind of loyalty in people. It was empowering and deeply humbling all at once.

Mac sighed.

"At least now Riker doesn't have a leg to stand on as far as the case goes," he paused, looking thoughtful.

"Let's get Lindsay and Danny back here. They spent the most time on the case and they might be able to help. Jessica has also called in a favor with Major Cases. They are already looking for him."

Stella nodded once and turned to leave.

"I'm going to go and help Hawkes with the evidence. When we get this guy back I want to be able to bury him."

Mac smiled.

"Call Lindsay and Danny while you're at it. Bring them home."

"What are you going to do?" She asked.

That cryptic expression that she both loved and hated came over his features.

"I've got company coming."


	18. Stupid, Myopic CSIs

Danny was in deep shit. He had known it the moment he had woken up and had felt Lindsay's lush body curled into his, her head resting on his chest. He looked down at the woman in his arms and instead of the need to flee that usual assailed him in these situations he felt the need to pull her closer.

He closed his eyes as if in pain and opened them. Unable to help himself he ran his free hand over the soft skin of her arm, back and forth in gentle caresses. Her skin was so soft compared to his own.

Danny felt his heart constrict in his chest and he glanced at the clock. It was mid-morning already and despite the late hour he was tired. He had a good excuse. It wasn't like they did a whole lot of sleeping last night.

He groaned. He ached in placed he hadn't even known had muscles and the thoughts of why caused a grin to quirk his lips. Damn, his imagination had not done her justice.

He frowned at that thought. His imagination truly hadn't done her justice and that was half his problem.

What the hell had he been thinking sleeping with Monroe? He was a grown fucking man for God's sake. True, she had been a completely willing participate in everything that had happened last night, but it was no excuse. He should have been able to control himself.

Danny glanced down at her sleeping peacefully against him, and felt her bare breasts rise and fall with her even breathing, causing them to brush against the sensitive skin of his stomach. He shivered and wondered if there really was any red-blooded man alive that could have resisted her. He figured a guy would have to have been a eunuch or a saint, and he was neither.

He watched her and couldn't help but feel all the old insecurities rise to the surface. Women like Monroe didn't fall for guys like him. They were too smart for that, she was too smart for that. Sure he flirted and made a couple half ass attempts at pseudo-dates, but he hadn't been willing to cross that line. He had self-preservation instincts that where too evolved to allow him to fall into the trap, or so he had thought.

What really scared him though was the knowledge that she could hurt him. She could hurt him so badly that he might never be able to put the pieces back together. He sighed; he couldn't allow her to have that kind of power over him.

Danny moved his hand up her arm and gently ran in through her silky curls. Who the hell was he kidding, she already did.

He should never have slept with her and he sure as hell shouldn't want to do it again.

Still lost in his thoughts he felt her move, and he looked down to meet her sleep heavy eyes. They glowed bright like sunlight through a crystal decanter filled with good whiskey. He got drunk just looking into them.

Danny suppressed a groan. He was right; he was in deep shit.

"Ummm," she moaned and stretched against him like a cat. He choked on his own tongue and his body responded to her.

Her slightly too wide mouth was stretched in a luxurious smile.

"Morning Cowboy," she purred, actually fucking purred. He suppressed another groan.

She was trailing little kisses along his abdomen and he knew that he had to get her to stop. They needed to talk.

"Montana, ya gotta stop that. We gotta…we gotta talk"

She pouted and continued raining sweet kisses on his body. He braced her shoulders with his hands tried to push her away.

"Montana! Stop!"

Something in his tone must have got through to her because she stopped abruptly and looked up at him. She didn't look so much puzzled as wary. He didn't like this look; it didn't bode well for him.

"You want to talk? About what?"

Danny ran a hand through his hair.

"About last night, about what happened."

Lindsay's eyes shuttered and she pulled away from him, wrapped a lose sheet around her body and got out of the bed. Danny felt the loss of her softness like he would his arm if someone chopped it off.

"What's to talk about? We had sex, end of story."

He blinked in surprise. He wasn't sure what he had expected her to say, but it sure as hell hadn't been that.

"Montana…" She wrapped the sheet tighter around her body and cut him off.

"Danny don't, please. I already know what you are going to say. Look, if it makes you feel better you know as well as I that I came on to you. I'm a big girl and believe me I know the difference between sex and love. You don't have to worry about me getting too…attached."

Danny felt his stomach twist at her words and he wasn't sure why. This is what he wanted right? He wanted her to admit to him that she wasn't attached to him, that they had a good time and it was still cool between them, right? So why did he feel like someone had shoved a pitch fork into his heart.

"Monroe, look its not…that's not how…" He wasn't quite sure what he was suppose to say and he watched as each word he spoke seemed to push her further and further away from him.

"Danny, I told you, you don't have to worry about…"

Lindsay was interrupted by the ringing of her cell phone. Annoyed she crossed to her bag, picked it up, and checked the display. It was Stella. She clicked it on.

"Monroe. Hey Stel. You're kidding! No, no. Yes I understand. We'll leave right away. Yeah we'll come right to the lab. Sure. Me? I'm fine. No I swear it's nothing, just a misunderstanding. Yeah I will. See you soon."

Lindsay clicked off her phone and dropped it back into her bag. He back still to him she told him about her phone call.

"That was Stella. We've got a new problem. Seems Davis has escaped."

Danny cursed and got out of bed. He hunted around for a minute and managed to find both his jeans and his glasses and he pulled them on.

"Did she say how?"

Lindsay shook her head in the negative and turned to look at him.

"Mac wants us back in the city ASAP, her words." Danny nodded and frowned.

"Lindsay…" he tried to say again. She turned away.

"We need to get going."

He watched her as she retreated into the bathroom and a few moments later he heard the shower click on. With a defeated sigh he sunk down unto the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands.

He was confused. He was either right and she was better off thinking whatever the hell it was she seemed to be thinking or he was the dumbest sonavobitch alive for not contradicting her when she was telling him it was just sex.

He had a sinking feeling it was the latter and that no matter how much she protested Lindsay wasn't as unaffected as she was pretending to be.

* * *

Lindsay let the warm spray of the shower caress her tired body and she choked down the urge to cry. The tears brimmed just under her eyelashes but by shear force of stubborn will she did not let them fall. She had vowed the day her mother died that she wouldn't cry again. She had shed enough tears that day for two lifetimes. She sure as hell was not going to cry over Danny Messer.

Lindsay sighed. She had expected this. When she had forced the issue last evening she had known that he had thought he was making a mistake, but she had foolishly hoped that he would change his mind.

She felt her heart constrict in her chest and she rested her head against the tile, letting the water beat down.

Her thighs and stomach muscles twinge in protest and the space between her legs was very tender.

It was no wonder. They had done things last night that were illegal in some states. He nipples puckered at the very thought and she frowned in annoyance.

Apparently her body wasn't up to speed with her head when it came to Danny. She briefly wonder how she was going to pull off working with him after knowing what he could do to her, how he could make her feel.

The sex wasn't the worst part, no the worst part was the feeling that she really was lying to herself when said that it was just sex and they could go back to where they were before.

Lindsay grabbed a bar of soap roughly and started running it over her body. Her mind instantly replaced the image with the image of his hands and she groaned.

Her heart twinged again and she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand.

She realized that she wasn't going to be able to get these images out of her mind anytime soon and she almost hated him for that.

What she really hated though was the feeling of abandonment that ate at her. She didn't know why she felt like that, she hadn't been his to abandon, not really, but her heart didn't seem to know or care about the difference.

She had known that she cared about him. She wouldn't have slept with him if she hadn't. Now though, she had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she her heart had done something very foolish.

She couldn't have though. She had explicitly forbid her heart from becoming too attached, but apparently it had been out to lunch while she was giving her brain that lecture.

Lindsay tilted her head up in the spray and fought a mental battle with her emotions. She couldn't have, wouldn't have…she had not fallen for him.

Now all she had to do was make herself believe it.


	19. Breaking and Entering

Lewis Whitney arrived at Mac's office promptly at the agreed upon time. The P.I. had thrown Mac for a moment when he arrived due to the strange way in which he was dressed.

He had shown up wearing a pair of white linen pants, sandals, and a loud Hawaiian print shirt that would have looked wrong on anyone else, but he managed to pull it off.

Still, the CSI couldn't help but wondered why Whitney was doing his best impression of Jimmy Buffet.

After all this was Manhattan not Key West. The P.I. was even wearing a white straw panama hat, tilted at a rakish angle, and carrying a heavy silver tipped cane. Mac had to fight to bite back his smirk.

"Detective Taylor," he drawled, his Scottish brogue more pronounced than the last time they has spoken.

"Mr. Whitney," he replied and motioned him towards the glass door leading into his office. The P.I. inclined his head gracefully and preceded him inside.

Once seated he crossed his legs and leaned his cane against the chair, near at hand. Mac's gaze was drawn to the strange object and he suddenly realized what bothered him about it. He frowned and moved towards it.

"May I?"

Whitney smirked slightly and nodded once. The CSI picked up the cane and felt the balance. It was perfect. Suspicion washed over his face as he grasped the handle with one hand and the base with the other. It didn't take much to pull the sword free from the body of the cane.

"You realize this is classified as a concealed weapon." The P.I. didn't say anything but the smirk on his face quirk his lips higher. Mac sighed and sheathed the weapon, handing it back to Whitney.

"Really Detective Taylor, you are quite a remarkable man. If you ever tire of being an officer of the law I would be happy to count you as one of my associates."

Mac shook his head and headed around his desk so he could sit down. Once seated, he leaned forward, and regarded the man seated before him intently.

"So, you found something." It wasn't a questioned and Whitney smiled.

"Yes, a very remarkable man," he paused and cocked his head to one side like a curious dog.

"My associate and I had the opportunity to relieve Mr. Riker of some files he had recently come into possession of. Rather careless of him to leave them lying about, but I digress. From what we collected it seems that Mr. Riker had you and yours under surveillance for some time. Needless to say we felt the need to reclaim said information and promptly lost it. Very careless of us, I'm sure. We also carelessly left a high powered magnet too close to his hard drive while we were relieved him of his documents."

Mac almost smiled. At least he didn't have to worry about Riker having information on them any longer. Still, if what Whitney had said was true he could probably re-amass the files without too much effort.

The P.I. seemed to read his thoughts because he was shaking his head.

"Don't worry. There were some other documents that my associate and I inadvertently found and I assure you that once I turn them over, anonymously of course, to your lovely A.D.A. Mr. Riker will not be bothering you again."

Mac frowned.

"Should I ask?" Whitney stood with a flourish and tipped his hat.

"It would probably be in your own best interests not to, although I am sure that Jessica will be happy to share once my associate contacts her."

Mac felt a slight shiver of discomfort run down his spine. He didn't really like sneaking around like this, but then again he also didn't like the fact that Riker had been watching his people. Again Whitney seemed to read his thoughts, which was slightly disconcerting. There were not many people in this world that were capable of reading him.

"I realize that these tactics smack of dishonesty, but as Sun Tzu says, _All warfare is based on deception. _Now if you will excuse me. I have a plane to catch."

Mac nodded, not asking where he was going; instinctively knowing that Whitney wouldn't tell him. The P.I. inclined his head once more and took his leave.

He was still sitting at his desk, contemplating Whitney's departing words when Stella walked in; her agitation was almost palpable.

"Mac, the deputy Warden from Riker's just called. They have been interrogating Davis' cellmate, to try to find out what he might do. The guy told them that he was obsessed with some detective that put him in there. Said Davis wanted to show her a new meaning to the phrase hell on earth. He has got to be talking about Lindsay. Do you think he would actually risk coming after her?"

Mac frowned and shook his head.

"I don't know, but let's not take any chances. The moment they come in I want to start round the clock protection for both of them. If they so much as catch cold I want to know about it. This bastard is not getting anywhere near my people again."

Stella nodded and was about to respond when her phone rang. She looked down at the caller Id and saw Hawkes' name flashing at her.

"It's Hawkes," she told him and clicked on her phone. "Bonasera."

Mac had been watching her closely, waiting for her to get off so they could conclude their conversation when her eyes grew wide and her voice shrill.

"What! Where! We'll come down right away."

The look in her eyes gave away the fact that something was very, very wrong long before she started speaking.

"Mac, Hawkes is down in the parking garage. He found Danny and he's unconscious."

Mac frowned and reached into his top drawer to pull out his gun. He started for the door and once they were in the hall she fell into step beside him.

"What about Lindsay?"

Stella's eyes were grave.

"She's gone Mac. Hawkes can't find her."

He increased his pace and hit the stairs, hoping that maybe Lindsay was there but unconscious somewhere out of Hawkes field of vision, but even as that hope bloomed it died. Mac already knew what had happened to his CSI. Davis had made good on his promise. He frowned and ran faster.

Now Mac was going to make good on his. When they caught up to Davis he was going to spend the rest of his life in a very tiny cell.

He just hoped, for Lindsay's sake, that they found him in time.

* * *

Danny had never endured a longer car ride than the one that he and Lindsay had just shared. Over six hours on the road and she had barely spoken two words to him. He glanced over at her and found to his annoyance that she was looking out the passenger window and that she was scouted as far away from him as the truck would allow.

They would be pulling into the parking garage under the building housing CSI and he had hoped they might at least be speaking to each other by the time they saw the others. He glanced at her again and sighed. Scratch that, he needed her to speak to him, wanted it more than anything. _Yeah, and people in hell want ice water_, he thought.

Danny had tried to talk to her a few times but she had shut him down. Frustration knotted his gut. He had to get her talking to him, some way, some how.

It was the how he was drawing a blank on. He sighed and pulled into the garage.

She got out the minute the truck stopped and he scrambled out of the cab to catch up with her.

"Montana, wait a minute." She didn't stop so he reached out and grabbed her arm. She twitched but didn't jerk away. Instead she turned cool eyes on him.

"Danny, we need to go. Mac and Stella are waiting."

He frowned at her.

"Ya know what? No way, Monroe. We are gonna have a chat." She shook her head sending her curls flying.

"Danny I told you, it doesn't matter all right? You're off the hook."

When she said those words something inside him shook loose and exploded.

"Fuckin' A Montana, I don't want to be off the hook. Don't you have any idea what you do to me?"

Lindsay sucked in a breath and a strange expression transformed her features.

"No I don't. It's not like you do a lot of explaining."

Danny released her and started to pace.

"That's because I always seem to be a step behind ya. Look Linds, I know ya think that I think what we did was just about the sex but it wasn't, not for me, and not for you."

Lindsay was watching him now with an intensity she usually reserved only for evidence and suspects. He wasn't sure he liked being thrust into either of those categories.

"Then what was it about, Danny?" She asked, softly. He froze.

What had it been about? It was a good question and as he looked at her he realized it was a question that scared him and he suddenly realized why.

Sweet Jesus, he couldn't really have been stupid enough to…but he had. He really and truly had.

Scared, he thought of something, anything he could say. He needed to stall, needed some time to think.

He would look back on that thought later and deeply regret making such a wish. He opened his mouth to say something, still not sure exactly what, when a large shape jump him from the side and cold cocked him in the face with the side of a Beretta.

Danny fell to his knees and an instant later he heard her screaming. Dizzy, he watched the shape dragging Lindsay through the garage by her hair and watched him throw her into the trunk of a beat up late model dodge. She was kicking and fighting and screaming like a banshee.

He tried to get up but when he moved his head swam. He heard the car start and then heard nothing.

His last thought before blackness engulfed him was that Lindsay was in trouble and he had to save her.


	20. Taken

Mac and Stella reached the parking garage with weapons drawn. The security lights were on and they fell in harsh waves over the prone figure of a man on the ground.

Hawkes was kneeling over him with two fingers pressed to his neck and a grave expression twisting his face. The two CSIs wasted no time in making their way over to the body, scanning the area with their guns before kneeling down.

Stella cursed and met Hawkes' eyes.

Fearful she asked. "Is he…"

He shook his head in the negative.

"Just unconscious."

As if in confirmation Danny groaned and his eyes fluttered open. Hawkes had removed his broken glasses so the three people looking down on him were blurry. Disoriented, he stayed were he was for a few moments to gain his bearings and then suddenly shot up into a sitting position. He almost clocked Mac in the head.

"Lindsay, he's got Lindsay…we gotta stop him! He'll kill her, did ya hear what I said! He's gonna kill her!"

Mac placed a calming hand on Danny's shoulder and tried to get him to focus. His intense gaze bore into the younger man.

"Slow down Danny, who took her?"

Danny couldn't be calmed. He pushed Mac away so he could stand.

"Davis; he came outta nowhere; cold cocked me, grabbed Lindsay..."

He paused as a wave of nauseous over took him. He bent over, waiting for it to pass.

"I gotta get her back, Mac. I gotta…"

He threw up before he could finish, what was left of the burger he had for lunch splattered on the pavement.

Mac, Stella and Hawkes all jumped back to avoid getting sprayed. Curious and concerned Mac stepped forward, careful to avoid the vomit and forced Danny to look at him.

"Danny, take a deep breath. I need you to think and tell me everything you saw. I could mean the difference between getting her back or finding…"

Ice cold terror filled Danny's eyes. He didn't need his boss to finish that sentence because his own brain filled in the gap. It was the difference between finding the living, breathing, beautiful woman he had come to…

He couldn't complete that thought.

No way, no way in hell was that bastard Davis going to take her away from him. Danny pushed away, agitated and tried to concentrate. It had all happened so fast and it was fuzzy.

He wiped vomit off his mouth and stared at the ground.

"Let me think. We was walkin' to the elevator, talkin' and Davis comes at me outta no where and cocks me in the head…I think it was with a gun. I was outta it but I heard Lindsay scream, next thing I know I hear tires squealin."

Danny paused as a wave of vertigo hit him. He reached up and hissed in pain when his hand came in contact with the goose egg on his forehead. He tried to concentrate but it was hard…there was something there, something important.

Mac and Stella watched him, trying to be patient, but their bodies were tense and ready for action. Neither interrupted though, because they were afraid he would lose whatever it was he seemed to be trying to remember.

Danny was pacing and mumbling, unable to make the connection until his eyes landed on a spot of oil in the space across from his line of sight. His head shot up.

"It was the car, it sounded funny. It was beat all to hell and didn't have a muffler, and the smell, it was like burning oil. It was a late modeld dodge, brown with rust spots. It didn't have a plate."

Mac was on his cell phone in an instant calling in an APB on the dodge.

Hawkes walked over to the oil pile that had captured Danny's attention and knelt down.

"There is an awful lot of oil here, more so than what could be considered normal. This car's oil pan is leaking like a sieve."

Stella followed him over and her eyes drifted over the spot.

It's fresh too, doesn't look like he was here that long, maybe a couple of hours."

Danny ran a hand through his hair and glanced at his colleagues.

"I don't care how long he was here. All I care about is gettin' Lindsay back."

Stella looked up at him and paused. An instant later her eyes grew wide and she was looking at him like what she had just thought couldn't possible be true. Danny shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

She frowned at him and walked back over to where Mac and he stood. She opened her mouth to say something, glanced and Mac and thought better of it.

"Let's get the surveillance tapes from down here, maybe they will tell us something."

Mac nodded and motioned for Hawkes to join them.

"Hawkes I want you to get a hold of Jessica Astor and find out if Davis' cellmate might have mentioned anything else. Danny, you're with Stella, go over the surveillance video and see if there is something there that might tell us something. Dispatch has already agreed to call me if we get any hits on the APB. The clock is ticking, people, let's move."

Stella nodded but Danny responded hysterically.

"That's it! You want me to go look at videos while this bastard has Lindsay. We should try his house or that school he worked at. We can't just sit here; we gotta do something, Mac we can't…"

Danny would have pushed past him in the direction the car had gone if the older man hadn't restrained him.

"Danny," he didn't respond; he just struggled harder. "Danny!" He stilled and focused on his boss.

"We don't know where he is taking her. We need more information and right now the tapes and his cellmate are our best options."

Danny seemed too deflated before his very eyes but he nodded. Mac eyed him concluding correctly that Danny's response was too intense for that of a concerned friend. He knew because this was how he had reacted when Claire…

Mac grasped the younger man's arm and forced him to look up.

"We'll get her back, Danny." The CSI nodded, numb, and followed Stella almost meekly towards the elevator.

Hawkes was still standing next to Mac and they watched him go.

"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't of been here to witness it myself," Hawkes mumbled and Mac nodded grimly.

"Let's get to work."

* * *

Lindsay knew she should be frightened. She knew she should be worried about being alive to see tomorrow, knew that Davis had gone from sociopathic to psychotic, but she was so enraged that her anger was suppressing her fear. She was being dragged along by the S.O.B. and she couldn't even curse at him like she wanted to because he had gagged her. Her hands were also bound which made scratching his eyes out also out of the question.

It was too bad that looks really couldn't kill; otherwise Davis would be the devil's new plaything.

"You shouldn't have messed with me bitch. Now you're gonna pay. You're gonna pay real good," he mumbled and shoved her forward. Lindsay stumbled but caught her balance before she could hit the stone sidewalk.

She wasn't quite sure where they were. He had stashed her in the trunk on the way over and now they were on some seldom used nature path. She could see the tiny building they seemed seemed to be heading for in the distance, but she couldn't begin to guess where it was located.

Davis shoved her again and this time she fell. She cried out in pain and felt her jeans rip and the skin on her knee shred. The bastard grabbed her by her hair and yanked to her feet, causing her to cry out again.

Lindsay felt warm blood trickle down her calf, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting.

"You and Romeo thought you were so fucking smart, but in the end you just weren't smart enough were you, you worthless cunt."

They had reached the small brick building and Davis fumbled for a key. Once he has it free he opened the door and pushed her inside. He followed and turned her to face him, ripping off her gage.

Lindsay spit in his face and Davis hauled his fist back, swung, and caught her across her cheekbone. Stars exploded behind her whiskey eyes and she went down.

"You filthy stinking slut," he screamed. He wiped her saliva off of his face in disgust.

"Better than a murdering bastard baby killer," she said. He kicked her in the side and she dropped into a fetal position clutching her ribs.

It occurred to her that it probably wasn't the best of ideas to go and antagonize him, but she had known the moment that he snatched her in the garage that he was going to kill her. She wasn't going to go down with out a fight.

An image of Danny flashed in her mind and her heart constricted in pain along with the thought that she might never see him again. Lindsay ruthlessly crushed that train of thought. She couldn't start thinking like that because the crippling terror she had pushed back was lapping at the edge of her mind. Is she let it overwhelm her then she would be useless.

She had to keep her wits about her; it was the only way she was going to survive.

Instead she let Danny's image fill her with hope and she let it give her strength. She was going to see him again. She wasn't going down like this, not at the hands of this piece of shit.

"Let's establish some rules, bitch. You don't get to talk cause I got the gun. If by some fucking miracle you get your hands on the gun then you can talk."

He kicked her again but Lindsay was able to absorb most of the the blow with her arms. It still hurt like a mother, but at least he didn't get another crack at her ribs.

"What do you think you're going to get out of doing this? I'm a cop. If you kill me there won't be a hole you can crawl into where they won't find you."

Davis pulled her up by her hair and dragged her to the corner of the room. Lindsay had to bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"It told you to shut the fuck up!" He screamed. "And who said anything about killin' ya. You're my insurance outta here. You're gonna get me a private plane to Mexico where I will send the rest of my time balancing senorita's on my balls on the beach and drinking tequila."

Lindsay glared at him with as much hate as she could muster, which was a lot.

"There is no way they are going to negotiate with you. You're going back to the little 8 by 10 cell and you are going to rot there."

Davis spat and hit her in the head with the butt of his gun. Lindsay fought to stay conscious but she couldn't do it. She blacked out.

"You know what bitch? You talk too much."


	21. Valkyrie

Danny had never felt the press of time like he did at this very moment. He was barely containing his fear, anger and worry as it was and now the damn clock was mocking him, ticking away the seconds of Lindsay's life like grains of sand. Frustrated, her ran a hand through his hair and squinted at the monitor he was watching.

Hawkes had dug up a spare pair of glasses for him but they weren't quite the right prescription. Still they helped.

When nothing appeared on the tape that could help him he popped in the next one and watched the attack on him and Lindsay from a different angle.

When he reached the end he rewound it and watched it again, resisting the urge to throw the monitor through the glass partition.

Stella was next to him doing the same thing and all the while time ticked by. He couldn't take it anymore.

Angry he banged his fists on the metal table, causing the computers to jump.

"Dammit Stella, there ain't nothin' here. Not a Goddamn thing!"

Stella frowned at him in concern and placed a comforting hand on his forearm.

"Danny, you need to calm down and focus. We'll find her." He threw off her hand and paced to the other end of the room.

"But what if we don't Stel? What if we don't? I fucked up with her, fucked up bad and now I ain't gonna be able to make it right."

Stella met his eyes and she saw it all there, everything that had happened between him and Lindsay in the last few days and what it meant for him.

"When did you realize you loved her?"

Danny ran a tired hand over his face.

"I realized it this mornin' but it's been happenin' since she walked into the zoo."

She smiled at him, but it was a weary, tired sort of smile.

"I don't blame you. She's that kind of person."

He didn't need her to elaborate. He knew exactly what Stella meant. She was the kind of person that got people's attention. The kind that once you think you got them figured out they turn around and surprise you.

He had a feeling that she would always be able to surprise him.

He had to get her back. People like her didn't die this way, they couldn't. He tried not to let his mind drift to Aiden. If he started to think about how she had died then he was bound to lose it completely.

Danny sat down and went back over the video and frowned. He rewound it and looked again, not sure what had caught his attention, and then he saw it. Excited he rapped Stella on the arm to get her attention.

"Stel, look at this. Is that what I think it is?"

The older CSI wheeled her chair over and looked at his screen to where he was pointing. She had to squint because it was grainy.

"It…it looks like a parking decal for a university." Danny licked his lips. That was exactly what he thought he was seeing.

"Do ya got the background check on Davis that we did?" Stella nodded and grabbed one of the files she had brought in to the viewing room with her. She shuffled through them and handed him the one he wanted.

Danny opened it and quickly scanned the information. He found what he needed on the second page.

"Look at this, whattdaya see?" Stella looked over his shoulder and her eyes grew large.

"Davis use to work as a janitor at NYU before he got the job and Rachel and Julie's prep school. That's his parking decal."

Danny nodded.

"And how much ya wanna bet he still has keys to that campus."

Stella smiled in triumph. "I'll take that bet, Messer. We gotta tell, Mac."

"Tell Mac what?" Stella and Danny turned as their boss walked into the viewing room. He had his cell phone clutched in his hand and he seemed to be as elated as they were.

"Mac we got a hit on one of the videos. Davis has got a parkin' decal outta NYU on his car," Danny gushed.

He had the feeling he got when he was on the scent of his quarry and a key piece of evidence has just fallen in to place. He was even more sure that NYU was were Davis had taken her when Mac told them why he had sought them out.

"Dispatch confirms your theory. Davis' car was spotted near a maintenance building on the south end of campus."

"What are we waitin' for, let's go," Danny said, already out the door. Mac would have smiled if he wasn't so worried for his CSI.

"S.W.A.T. is on its way, E.T.A. fifteen minutes. We can meet them there," he said and Stella nodded, grabbing her suit jacket as they went.

"Let's get her back," she replied, and Mac nodded.

* * *

Lindsay came to with a splitting headache pounded just underneath her skull and she groaned. It took her a minute to remember why and when she did the fear that had been threatening to incapacitate her spilled over and spread through her body like wildfire.

She tried to move but found that her hands were still bound, luckily though her legs were free. She tried to twist, but her abused ribs protested. She bit back a moan.

Lindsay's eyes focused a few seconds later and she blinked when the harsh glare of the overhead fluorescent lighting hit her corneas. She fought for calm against the building panic and forced herself to look past the glare into the room.

She almost wept with relief when she found that she was alone. Her relief was compounded when she looked down at her clothes and found them still on her.

She gingerly rubbed her thighs together to determine her worst fear, whether or not he had raped her while she had been unconscious.

The only tenderness that she found was the residual ache her and Danny's activities had left behind and her relief was compounded.

Lindsay realized that she had been lucky so far. He had yet to rape or kill her, but she was sure her luck wouldn't hold. She had to get out of here.

He had tied her hands but he must not have really known what he was doing because there was a little bit of a give in the knot. Lindsay wiggled a little, just enough to work her hand into the right hand back pocket of her jeans. She grunted with the effort and pain shot up her side from her ribs, causing her to break out into a cold sweat, but she was triumphant.

Lindsay bit her lip to keep back the squeal of victory as she worked her fingers over the release of her pocket knife and started to saw at the rope binding her.

The sturdy steel silver blade had been her going away present from her grandfather and had come in handy more than once since she had come to New York.

Now it just might be the very thing that saved her life.

She reminded herself to call and thank her granddad if she lived through this.

With determined strokes she ignored the pain shooting up her wrists and hacked through the rope. She kept the knife razor sharp and after a few moments of work she felt the binding give a little more, enough for her to work her hands free.

She would have done so too if Davis hadn't of chose that moment to show up. She stilled when his hulking silhouette reflected off the wall and froze completely when he walked into the room.

He looked wild eyed, desperate, and more than a little scared. She suddenly realized way when she heard the bullhorn sound.

"Davis; give it up. You don't have anywhere to run."

_That's Mac! _She thought, elated. They had found her. They were going to get her the hell out of here.

Lindsay's little internal victory celebration however, was short lived.

"Get up, bitch," Davis growled and reached for her. She almost panic when she thought of the knife she had precariously balanced in her palm. She couldn't let him see it. He would shoot her for sure.

Lindsay focused on bearing down with her weight to keep him from pulling her to her feet. Davis' grip slipped and he growled at her menacingly.

"I told you to get the fuck up!" he screamed and kicked her in the thigh. Lindsay yelped in pain.

"Davis," she hissed, desperately wanting to clutch her thigh. "It's over. Give yourself up or they are going to kill you."

Davis looked around wildly, his panic almost tangible. The next words spoken from outside though were the ones that sent him over the edge.

"Davis, let Detective Monroe go. Or else S.W.A.T will have no choice but to come in after you," Mac said.

The escaped prisoner howled and dragged Lindsay up to her knees. She was lucky, she managed to keep a hold of the knife and he didn't seem to notice it.

"I'm not gonna go back to prison. No way. I'll die in that hellhole if they send me back. You're gonna make sure they don't. You're gonna tell them to back off or I'm goin' kill ya."

Davis raised his gun so Lindsay could look down the barrel. Fear and adrenaline spiked and she knew then and there that no matter what she did or said he was going to kill her anyway.

Petrified and angry she did what could be considered either the stupidest or most courageous thing she had ever done. She pulled her hands free, gripped her pocket knife and drove the blade all the way to the hilt into Davis's thigh.

He screamed in pain and the gun jerked sideways and jumped in his hands. The next thing she knew S.W.A.T. was swarming everywhere and she could hear someone yelling over their radios.

"Shots fired, shots fired, everybody move!"

It was all sort of a blur to Lindsay. All she could feel was a numb sensation traveling down her right arm and a warm trickle oozing out of her shoulder. Her head swam but one figure became clearer than all the others as he entered the room and moved to her side.

"Lindsay" he whispered. She tried to smile at him. He sounded so far away.

"Danny," she answered finally and she managed to quirk her lips up into a grin. She frowned when he didn't smile back and followed the direction of his gaze.

He was looking at her shoulder and there was anger blazing in his eyes. She turned to see what all the fuss was about and saw a perfect round hole just under her shoulder blade that she could look through.

For some reason she felt the overwhelming urge to giggle and she half realized she was in shock.

"Danny," she tried to say. She wasn't sure if it came out right. It must have because he focused on her and gently clasped her face in his hands.

"Yeah?" She struggled to stay conscious.

"I think…it might be a good idea…if I went to the hospital."

She blacked out after saying those words so she didn't hear Danny's reply, but she trusted him to take care of her. She knew in her heart of hearts that she could and that when push came to shove, he would never really let her


	22. Reconciliation

Danny hated hospitals. He hated them for the reasons most people hated them and that was because they were too clean, too stark, and smelled like death. He also had a personal reason for hating them and that was because he had spent too much time in them recently.

Between Flack and Louie he had been dropping by these disinfected tombs after way too many of his shifts, and now…Lindsay.

Danny removed his borrowed glasses and ran a hand over his tired eyes. They had brought her in about an hour ago and the Doctor was in with her now, stitching her up.

He looked down and saw that his hands were shaking slightly, and he put them in his jean pockets so no one else could see. He then took a quick look around to see if anyone else had noticed. Stella was talking to Mac so they hadn't been paying attention to him and Hawkes was reading an article out of some medical magazine.

He seemed to be the only one slowly losing his mind.

Danny paced to the other side of the room, crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned against the wall.

He told himself once again that she was fine. The doc had said so. The bullet had been a through and through that chipped her shoulder blade, but otherwise didn't cause any permanent damage.

Her ribs were bruised but at least that bastard hadn't managed to break them, and although her jaw looked like she had taken on Evander Holyfield and lost, at least it hadn't been broken.

The most dangerous thing that had happened was the blood loss. She had needed a transfusion by the time she got here and then there was the little fact that she was still unconscious.

Danny felt his urge to hit something grow, preferable Davis' face. He sighed.

He could still see the scene in his head so very clearly. They had heard the gun shot and immediately breached the small utility building.

When S.W.A.T. had swarmed in Davis' had tried to turn the gun on himself but the team had stopped him and disarmed him. Danny had spared the briefest of glances for him and his attention and immediately landed on the knife sticking out of his thigh.

He had instantly recognized it because not only had he seen it on numerous occasions but it was one of the first personal items he had teased her about owning.

It was the wicked looking pocket knife that Lindsay always carried on her and he had no illusions on how it had gotten buried in Davis' thigh.

She could have been killed. She hadn't been but she could have been and Danny realized that if she had been he might have been sorely tempted to eat his own gun, because he couldn't image his life with out her in it.

Danny felt his palms itch and he rubbed them together. He needed to see her, needed to hold her and make damn sure that she really was alright.

He as about five seconds away from charging through the hospital like a mad bull, looking for her, when the doc who had been stitching her up came into the room.

Mac and Stella were instantly on their feet and Hawkes put down his magazine and focused his attention on the physician.

The doctor smiled at them. "I'm happy to report that Miss Monroe is going to be just fine. The wound was easy to close and she woke up during the procedure. You can all see her if you would like and she is ready to go home."

The CSIs breathed a collective sigh and followed the Doctor back into the hubbub of the Emergency room. Danny stayed rooted to his spot for a few minutes, strong feelings of insecurity assailing him.

They had been fighting when Davis had nabbed her and he really wasn't all that sure that she would want to see him.

Finally he willed his feet to move and followed the voices of his colleagues to her bedside. He stood back beyond the curtains a little, in a position where she could see him but she had yet to glance in his direction.

She was smiling and even laughed at something Stella had said. Mac was admonishing her for sticking Davis with that knife and at the same time telling her it was a bold move. Hawkes was checking over her injuries and looking through her chart.

Danny was just content to watch her. She was alive, and even banged up she was beautiful, and he couldn't imagine her any other way.

He knew, as sure as he breathed, that Davis would have been a dead man if they had found her corpse instead of this living, breathing woman that he loved.

As if she could feel the weight of his thoughts she looked beyond Stella and saw him standing there. She paused mid-sentence and time seemed to slow down to a crawl as she gazed at him with unreadable eyes.

"Guys, why don't we give them a minute?" Stella said. Mac looked back and forth between his two CSIs and grudgingly nodded. Hawkes had a weird sort of grin twisting his lips but he was also willing to leave them alone.

They filed out passed Danny and Stella squeezed his arm reassuringly, like she had done a few days ago in the break room after the first time Davis had attacked Lindsay.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

When the rest of the team was gone Danny cautiously made his way behind the curtain and pulled up a stool so he could sit next to her. He didn't touch her even though every fiber of his being was screaming at him to.

"Hey," he said softly. She smiled wanly at him.

"Hey," she replied. Danny met her whiskey eyes head on, not willing to flinch and she did the same. Finally unable to take it any longer he reached out and for her hand, being careful of the I.V. and entwined their fingers. Relief flooded her eyes and her smile turned warm.

"Jesus Linds, you scared me. Don't ever scare me like that again," he said. She squeezed his hand.

"He didn't hurt me; well he didn't hurt me as badly as he could have."

Anger flashed in Danny's eyes but he banked it down. Now was not the time.

"I saw the knife. What were you thinkin' Montana? He could have killed you. I couldn't…"

Lindsay didn't take offense; instead she started rubbing small circles over his palm with her thumb. Danny felt her gently touch course through him and he shivered.

"He didn't kill me Danny. I'm here. It's okay."

Danny pulled away from her and stood up to pace. He ran his hand through his hair, agitated.

"Shit, it's not okay. I'm gettin' really sick and tired of seein' people I love get hurt and wind up…"

Danny froze and a minute later he hung his head. He realized what he had just inadvertently said and cursed himself as all kinds of an idiot. He hadn't intended to tell her like this because truthfully, he wasn't all the sure what her reaction would be.

Slowly Danny lifted his head and met her eyes. She looked as shocked as he felt. She recovered pretty quickly and started picking fuzz off her covers. She wasn't looking at him.

"So, it wasn't just great sex," she threw out offhandedly. Danny stared at her a little confused until he saw the upturned tilt of her sensuous lips. She was smirking, the little minx.

Danny let the first real smile in hours twitch his lips up and he went over to sit down next to her.

"Great sex, Montana?"

She started laughing and then stopped grasping her ribs.

"Don't make me laugh Messer, it hurts," she protested, but she was still smiling.

They were quiet for a moment. Lindsay looked at him a little shy.

"So…you never answered my question? It wasn't just sex?"

Danny leaned in and kissed her gently before replying.

"Aw hell, Montana. You know what you do ta me. You make me crazy. Of course I'm in love with ya. Did you really think I stood a chance of not fallin' for ya?"

She smirked at him. "A slim chance, a very, very slim chance, Messer."

She picked at her covers some more and grew serious.

"I love you too, Danny."

He felt his heart swell at those simple words falling from her lips and he kissed her again, this time a little more instantly and she moaned. He pulled back and gently brushed her hair off her forehead.

"So Monroe, what's this mean for us?" Lindsay smiled.

"Well I figure that when I'm feeling better we need to have a lot more of that great sex I was telling you about."

He smirked and almost said something but she wasn't done. She stilled his response by placing her index finger over his lips. "The rest I think we can figure out as we go."

Danny responded by pulling her finger into his mouth and sucking lightly. Lindsay drew in a ragged breath.

"No fair. Don't go starting things we can't finish Danny," she moaned. He smiled, shrugged and released her.

"I'm definitely up for the more of the great sex part and as for the rest of it? Well, if you're up to it do ya want to come to a Yankee's game with me, Montana?"

Lindsay smirked and cocked and eyebrow in his direction.

"You asking me on a date, Messer?" He nodded.

"On one condition." She quirked her eyebrow higher. "You gotta promise me that you won't be stabbin' any more deranged killers with the pocket cutlery ya like ta carry. I don't think my heart can take it."

Lindsay reeled him in for another kiss.

"I'm not making any promises, Cowboy, but I'll try."

He smiled against her lips and kissed her again. He couldn't get enough of those lips, probably never would.

"We are gonna try. That's all I can ask. It's all I need."


	23. Loose Ends

It was evening, a few days after Lindsay had been kidnapped by Davis, and Stella was home doing something she rarely, if ever did. She was watching the news. She had just pulled a double and thankfully she was off tomorrow. She has been working a lot of overtime since Lindsay had been on medical leave.

Today though, had been the young woman's first day back and Stella, for one, was glad of it. It was nice to have her back in the lab, none the worse for wear. It was even more fun watching her and Danny interact with each other at work now that they were together.

They were worse than a couple of teenagers.

Stella smirked and turned her attention back to the news when a familiar face filled the screen. Stunned she reached for her remote and turned up the volume.

The cameras were shooting outside of the courthouse and in the background a man could be seen, being lead down the steps in handcuffs. He was flanked by two uniformed officers and a detective she knew from Major Cases was leading him towards the waiting squad car.

The guy they were arresting was Carl Riker.

_In other news. Attorney Carl Riker, son of Congressman Joseph Riker was arrested today at the New York City Courthouse hours before he was to defend Alex Davis, against charges of kidnapping, raping, and murdering twelve year old Rachel Adams and thirteen year old Julie Martinez. _

_Mr. Riker is accused of jury tampering and bribing a federal judge. When asked for comment on the charges being brought against Mr. Riker and what evidence they may have to support these claims, Assistant District Attorney Jessica Astor, had this to say._

The camera image sifted to show a coolly composed Jessica Astor standing outside the courthouse steps.

_I can not at this time, speak to the evidence that has led us to this arrest. I can only say that it was delivered to this office by a credible source. I am sure that the District Attorney will have a full statement prepared very soon. If you will excuse me._

The A.D.A. was filmed following the officers as they led Riker away and Stella could only stare.

When she snapped out of her shock she grabbed her cell phone and hit speed dial.

_Hello Stel. _

He answered on the second ring.

"Did you know about this?" She could practically feel him smiling on the other end.

_I may have heard something._

Stella frowned.

"Mac Taylor if you don't tell me how you pulled this off this instant…" She tried to think up an appropriate threat but it had been a long day and she was tired.

_Good night, Stella. I'll see you tomorrow_.

He hung up. Stella fumed and clicked off her cell phone.

"I'm not in tomorrow, genius," she mumbled and sighed.

She thought about calling him back but she knew him so well and knew that it wouldn't do any good. Mac Taylor knew how to keep a secret and he wasn't about to divulge that he was up to his neck in whatever happened to Riker.

Infuriating, exasperating man!

* * *

Mac Taylor hadn't expected Stella to call him back. He figured she would wait and corner him so she could wheedle everything he knew out of him in bits and pieces. He glanced down at his phone and checked his caller idea. He frowned. It wasn't Stella.

"Taylor," he answered.

_Did you catch the news tonight, Detective?_

Mac smiled and shifted the receiver to his other ear.

"Mr. Whitney. How are you?"

_Dreadfully hot. I do so hate South America during this time of year._

Mac started and then remembered how Whitney was dressed the last time he had seen him. He had thought that he was headed somewhere tropical but he would never have guessed South America. He wanted to ask where in South America Whitney had happened to find himself, but Mac knew he wouldn't get any sort of answer.

"Jessica had called me and told me they were going to arrest Riker. I owe you one, Mr. Whitney."

_I might have to take you up on that someday Detective Taylor. Good day._

Whitney disconnected and so did Mac.

He was sitting on his couch a few minutes later wondering just what sort of favor a man like Lewis Whitney might want and hoping that he might never find out.

* * *

With the arrest of Carl Riker, Alex Davis had to use his assistant during his preliminary hearing and was almost immediately remanded for trail. His Jury trial took place almost three weeks later. Danny and Lindsay along with Stella and Hawkes were all being called by Jessica to give evidence.

The motion for dismissal that Riker had filed to get the evidence dismissed had died a hideous death after his arrest.

Lindsay was currently pacing down the corridor, outside of the courtroom she would be called to enter in a few minutes, wringing her hands nervously. Danny was seated on a bench in the corner watching her.

She looked good today, dressed in a business suit with her hair pinned up. She looked like the sexy teacher in Van Halen's _Hot for Teacher_ video. Danny had loved that video as a kid.

He was resisting the urge to pull her into the closest broom closet he could find and kiss her senseless. He didn't think she or Jessica would appreciate it at this moment.

Lindsay rung her hands again and wore another grove in the floor.

"Monroe, ya gotta calm down. 'Sides you've done this before. You'll be all right."

Lindsay frowned at him.

"True, I have done this before, but this time…"

She couldn't put into words the myriad of emotions that assailed her. She was hesitant to say it was more important or more personal, because she had, had other cases in the past that were just as personal and she considered all of her cases important. This case, though, had another level to it and it was hard to put into words.

Danny rose and walked over to her, taking her hands in his.

"You'll be great," he said simply and kissed her gently. Just then the bailiff came out and told her that they were ready for her.

She smiled weakly.

"Wish me luck." He squeezed her hand and she smiled before following the bailiff.

He watched her go, keeping his gaze on her until she was out of sight. If he had is way she would never be in the same room with Alex Davis for the rest of her natural life, but he knew she hadn't needed to hear that.

He also knew that even if he had said something it wouldn't have done any good. She was stubborn like that.

Danny started to pace in the same manner that Lindsay had earlier. He was worried but he also knew the evidence was solid.

Alex Davis didn't have a pot to piss in. He was going down.

* * *

A few hours after they had given their evidence, Danny and Lindsay had headed back to the lab to await Stella and Hawkes. They had a few outstanding cases so they spent some time working them, catching up on paperwork, and for a few bliss filled seconds, making out in the janitor's closet.

It was by far the best part of the day, until Stella and Hawkes returned with the news.

"Sorry we're so late," Stella came in and apologized. "We waited for the verdict."

Both Danny and Lindsay perked up and gave her their full attention.

"Well," Lindsay prompted.

Stella smirked and remained silent for a moment to let the dramatic tension build. When it looked like her colleagues were about to burst a blood vessel she told them.

"Life without the possibility of parole."

The two CSIs before her seemed to breathe a collective sigh.

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," Danny said, sarcastically. Lindsay was smirking and about to add her own snarky comment when Mac interpreted their little pow-wow.

"We got a robbery gone bad down at First National. Possibly four DB's, and a lot of money, gone. I need all of you."

He said no more, just turned and walked out, knowing they would follow him. The four exchanged looks and went to get their kits.

Their work it seems; would never truly be done.


	24. Epilogue

Lindsay Monroe stretched and rolled over coming in direct contact with her boyfriend Danny Messer. He seemed to be sleeping but Lindsay wasn't so sure. He had a very strange little smirk on his lips and she decided to test her theory. Ever so slow she started to kiss her way down his abdomen, going lower.

He didn't so much as twitch a muscle or breath until he felt her tongue run slowly under the underside of his cock. Danny jumped and groaned.

He was fully awake and had been for over an hour, but he had feigned sleep when he had felt her waking beside him.

Lindsay was currently punishing him for his deception by sucking on just the distend tip of his manhood. She pulled away with a tiny pop and Danny shuddered.

The things she could do with that mouth aught to be illegal.

"You were not asleep, Mr. Messer. You should know better by now then to try to trick me."

After over two months of sleeping in the same bed together she had grown accustom to his breathing patterns. There was no way he could fool her into thinking he was asleep when he wasn't. She was curious, though, as to why he felt the need to feign sleep.

Danny didn't give her a chance to think about it too much. He rolled her under him and the next thing she knew he was deep inside her. She groaned and kissed him as he plunged.

"Now that…is not fair…Mr. Messer," she gasped between burst of pleasure. She had never known that a man could feel so very good inside of her, or make her body respond and flood with pleasure almost every time.

"Who said…anything…bout playin' fair…Montana," he grunted as he moved faster.

"Danny," she whimpered as the familiar pressure built and then she screamed, "Danny!"

She came hard, her inner muscles contracting around the soft skin of his sex and a few moments latter he followed her, her name on his lips.

Winded he rolled off of her and pulled her up against his side. She reached out and started rubbing slow circles over his abdomen with her right hand when she noticed something that glinted in the morning light.

She frowned and brought her hand up so she could see her fingers and gasped.

"Danny?" she questioned, her voice none too steady. He smiled and kissed her temple.

"So, whattdaya think, Montana?" He sounded nervous and more than a little scared. Lindsay met his eyes, tears threatening at the corner of her own.

"I think...is this…I don't know what to think…do you mean…," she whispered, more than a little scared herself.

He grunted and pulled her tighter. "Yeah I mean. It's an engagement ring, Montana. I was sorta hopin' that you might marry me."

A single tear rolled down Lindsay cheek and then another, and another.

"I don't know what to…This isn't a joke, like that offhanded proposal during the Mann case?"

Danny smirked. "Who's to say I didn't mean it then, either Monroe?"

Lindsay chuckled and looked back at the ring decorating her finger. She moved her hand and watched the sunlight gleam off the simple princess cut solitaire that winked at her from the platinum setting. It was beautiful, he was beautiful.

"So…you gonna give me an answer or what?" he asked. He sounded a little terrified and she decided that she should put him out of his misery.

"Yeah, I think I would like that, marrying you that is. Of course that could just be the orgasm talking."

Danny smirked and kissed her like she was a fine wine and he wanted to get drunk off of her. He broke away and brushed hair out of her face.

"I love you, Danny," she whispered and he smiled.

"Love ya too, Montana."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Prove it," she challenged. Danny's lips twitch in a slow and sensual fashion. It would be his pleasure but first he pulled the ring off of her finger and tilted it sideways so that the light caught on the words inside the band.

She squinted at the inscription, her brow furrowing like it did when she was concentrating on a case.

"Read the inside first." Lindsay took the ring for Danny and tired to make out the words, when she did she started in surprise.

"Fidelis Ad Mortem," she whispered and looked at him with brimming eyes.

"Faithful unto death, that's me, Montana," he assured. He already knew that it was her as well.

Lindsay smiled a watery smile and slipped the ring, almost reverently, back onto her finger. This time though, she moved it to her left hand.

She kissed him slow and deep and very soon kissing wasn't near enough for either of them. Her last thought as they made love were those words echoing in her head.

Faithful unto death.

She didn't doubt it for an instant.

Fin.

**Author's note: I wanted to take this opportunity to thank everyone who reviewed this story. It is always fun to find out that others enjoy the stuff that I have written. **

**This story was kind of a surprise for me. I got the interrogation idea from watching The Closer marathon on TNT a couple of weeks ago and once I started writing, what I had intended to be a really short interlude, morphed into what you see before you.**

**I tried very hard to present the characters as they appear to me in the show. Lindsay is an especially difficult character to write because we still know so little about her. I hope that I managed to capture not only her strength and determination, but also her dry sense of humor and that excitement that seems to bubble just below her surface.**

**Anyhoo, I am glad you enjoyed the story and thanks for reading.**


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